Bleed
by F011Y
Summary: Bleed is a worm Alt-power/Au here we meet a vigilante Taylor who fights mundane criminals with the aid of Shadow Stalker. Unbeknownst to Taylor her partners identity is that of Sophia Hess, one of Taylor's school bullies. This all comes to a head after one night where the duo nearly die in their first fight with villains. In the fallout Taylor must discover her own path as a cape.
1. Bleed 1-1

I'd spent the majority of 's class scrunching and unfurling the same sheet of paper. It was my third period, world issues, and my last one before lunch. Recently any discussion on capes drew me in, but lunch was five minutes away and drawing nearer. My back and shoulders were stiff while I sat hunched over in my attempt to take up as small a space as possible.

Occasionally I would glance towards or "Mr. G" as he insisted to be called. He was a squat man in his mid to late twenties, and as per usual held a dopey smile stretched across his face. always seemed animated during his lectures, arms flailing all throughout as if to bring emphasis to his points. I was curious how well he could maintain his attitude if he were crumpled like my ball of paper. I tried to discourage the thought but as quickly as it came so did a smile across my face.

Unfortunately, my smile had not gone unnoticed, the sound of giggling that followed sent a chill down my spine. The giggle had belonged to Madison Clements a member of "the trio." That laugh meant the beginning of a terrible next couple of days once I had the attention of one of them the others weren't far behind.

They'd start small and then escalate from thumbtacks in every chair, to some of my things becoming damaged or missing, then finally a shove down a flight of stairs. Each altercation went on without interference, as if no one could see me when I needed help. Why would they? Among our peers the trio were popular and beautiful it wasn't hard to picture everyone else ignoring me to stay on their good side.

Madison was cute in a youthful and innocent sense for the time being she had the right figure to pull it off petite but just enough not to be off putting. She was the focus of plenty of guys, and they kept her happy whether that meant laughing at her jokes or joining in on one, unfortunately I was a regular punchline.

To the administration it was my word against theirs, eventually the pointless routine just got depressing. They could do whatever they wanted and they knew it. The only reason I could conceive for the trio to leave me alone was to hadn't been a single attack since the 'chest's incident a few months ago.

I didn't come back to school until they called home alerting my father to my absences.I tried reassuring myself things were different now and for multiple reasons. But for every passing day that hope loss credibility.

I entirely stopped listening to the class,the possibility of an impending situation weighed heavier than some stupid class.I rolled my ball towards the edge of the desk and looked up; the clock showed five minutes left the prospect of lunch remained as unappealing as it ever had. Before I could reach for it a hand from behind snatched up the crumpled paper first.

"Oh hi Ms. Herbert mind if I borrow this?" asked while the class broke out in sparse laughter a release to the previously held silence.

Before I could correct him had already pivoted into a slight hop,he made a 'swish' sound just before taking his shot. His aim would have come off short if it weren't for the ball bouncing off Greg Verder's round head.

"Sorry about that Vader!"The teacher said among the class laughter.

"So Taylor now that I'm sure I have your attention can you tell me what we were talking about for the last hour?"

He stood in front of me, only slightly taller than me while sitting in my chair. If this were another time or place things would be different, I would be different. I could silence him with a look. But now all I could do was awkwardly look at his forehead. After a few moments of this, he understood that he wouldn't get an answer.

"Its alright Taylor," he said while leaning down to slowly pat my shoulder.

Turning towards the rest of the class,"Sorry guys but looks like you're gonna have some homework for the weekend," he said to a collective groan.

"Now now," he said hands raised in a soothing gesture,"the assignment isn't mandatory -"

I stopped listening but did notice a mention of pizza that was met with student cheers. I watched with anticipation as took his bow before ending class a minute early. Thus began the chorus of slammed book and skidding chairs as the class was reduced to students flocked around Mr. Gladly obscuring his view of me and more importantly the door.

I quickly gathered my things briskly walking out of the classroom. Before I left, however, a paper ball bounced off my head. I turned to see who it was despite the obvious answer. Madison sat there with a broad smile while her entourage of sycophants offered more crumpled up papers for her to throw.

I left quickly both to avoid further annoyance and that her smile was enough to make my blood boil. Recently looking at Madison or any of the trio for that matter made it difficult to stay calm. Pacing through Winslows decrepit halls I did my best to ignore the faint stench from some busted pipes. I avoided entering the first bathroom I came across. It was the closest to the lunchroom and would be the first place they'd look if they were to search. The bell rang flooding the corridor with bodies. Increasing the pace I couldn't help but to let my eyes wander. Not only was I unsure of the likelihood of running into one of the girls, but I wasn't too excited about bumping into a different type of wrong persons.

Winslow was over packed with students a fact reflected in the overlapping gang tags that merged into an extensive ugly blotch covering several lockers and the bathroom door. The school was notorious for its gang affiliations but to actually see it was completely different. Only a quarter of the school was comprised of regular students. The rest of the student body was a rough balance of the Nazi skinheads, A.B.B thugs, or Merchant the potential fallout of open violence kept them in check.

Despite classes officially ending only a few minutes ago the girls bathroom was bustling with activity. I was forced to wait for a stall. Standing idly by I hadn't noticed when exactly I'd begun playing with my hair. I either tugged at it or spun it around my finger. I remembered a time when my lengthy blonde curls were my favorite feature. Back when we were younger Emma would spend hours styling it. But despite it now being my only feature I could call feminine it was also a reminder of the woman who gave it to me.

With that thought I returned my hand firmly to my side, today had been rough already no point in making it worse. It was a bit of a wait for the stall door to open but by the time it had the bathroom had nearly cleared out. Locking the stall door, I lowered the seat as I got settled for lunch. The trio took the lunchroom from me months ago but at least I had this small respite. I opened my backpack to retrieve my sandwich and book. I propped the book open on my knees assigning one hand to my book and the other to my meal.

The book I was called 'Eden: behind the numbers.' The book was authored by the charity that shared its namesake. Eden was branded as a safe haven for capes whose powers were dangerous to both the host themselves and the public, otherwise known as case 53's. Essentially the book was structured as a set of interviews with select parahumans. I was pretty sure that along with consent the group had also chosen their candidates with perception in mind. Apparently the severity of some Case 53's was common knowledge so it was smart of the authors to choose the less disturbing ones.

I finished Welds interview and started on Simurghs. Next to her entry was a tall woman with porcelain white skin. Her regal face and flowing feathered 'hair' made her look closer to a doll than a former human. Apparently she was a healer who had recently started working with the P.R.T. It was a common theme, no matter the quality of the hand dealt to them, each of the people interviewed were making strides for the better. They were facing their problems one day at a time just like me.

So why aren't things getting any better? If things got too bad there was always a solution to my immediate problems, but it would only sprout more down the road. Still the idea of enduring years of abuse for a diploma seemed increasingly foolish.

The combination of a neighboring flush and the barging of the door stirred me from my thoughts. The sound of the three familiar giggles that followed caused me to choke on my food. Even with all that had happened in the months following the 'chest prank' memories of it and the people behind it still affected me. I briefly experienced relief, not in a joyful sense but more akin to closure, no more waiting for the inevitable.

"There she is," I heard Madison say in her childish tone.

From both sides of the stall I could hear the girls set down some sort of container with a heavy thud.

"Emma stop ,don't do this," I pleaded. I knew it was useless but still had to try.

I dropped everything to try pushing open the door but to no avail. Sophia must've been blocking it.

"Aww Taylor you sound stressed out," said Emma in a mockingly concerned tone, "here we've got just the thing."

She and Madison then dumped a thick, sticky, and colorful liquid on top of me and my things. The pouring liquid managed to slip my glasses off my face. I did my best to shield my eyes but with only my hands most of it managed to get through. The floor was slippery and with all my things behind me I didn't trust myself to reach for it without falling in the process.

Since the bullying first started I began showing less skin with my clothes in a vain attempt at camouflage. Where the substance had met clothing it seeped in causing it too cling to my body. Conversely exposed areas felt like they were lit on fire my hands, face, and eyes burning upon contact. They kept this up for what felt like several minutes even working in a rhythm to avoid pausing.

The hollow thuds against my head and back signified the end of their assault. I moved slightly to my left or right in a pathetic attempt to dodge any of the emptied bottles. Every last one of them hit their mark. Some of them still having enough of their contents to hit harder than the rest, I could sense the bruises form underneath the skin.

Uselessly I rubbed the scalding chemicals from my eyes. Yet again I listened to their laughter ,only now it renewed old memories like a ripped scab bleeding needlessly. Internally I felt a blend of emotion and something more build up pressure, seething without release.

"You know what I've tried for years to find the right look for Taylor after all this time I think we've got it."

I ignored the pain in my eyes to look up and see Emma, Madison, and Sophia staring down on me with glee. Even while half blind I could make out the tangle of red hair and the dark athletic build belonging to Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess respectively.

Unlike Madison ,Sophia and Emma personified the "prom queen" stereotype of beauty. With the curves and confidence I could never hope to naturally have. Especially now, compared to them I was little more than a smudge on the floor. I tried to get up, my body shaking with anger I was about halfway there until I slipped and fell forward with a sickening snap.

I ignored the following taunts too angry to care about them or to respond with words. I could feel the red-hot liquid pulse through my veins almost threatening to actions would speak for me. Glaring into Emma's eyes for a moment I thought her face was flushed with fear. Without thinking I leapt up towards her. I didn't know what I'd do only that it should hurt. Before I could close the distance however, Sophia was between us.

I hadn't considered Emma's shadow. She intercepted me, using my own momentum she tossed me forward beneath the bathroom sinks. The small bucket wasn't enough to cushion the crash and I rammed face first into the dusty tile too stunned to move.

"Geez Taylor you perv,I hope it stings freak." Those had been the last words I heard from Emma before she and the rest of the trio left me alone in the bathroom.

It took more than a few moments for me to rise to my feet taking slow, deep, and steady breaths as I did so. Sweat dripped around my back and forehead. I needed to get cleaned up, running the water of a faucet I'd begun rinsing out my eyes.

No sooner did I see my reflection that I could make out the remains of my things. My glasses were broken, likely from my first fall. My book and lunch were similarly loss causes, but my backpack was a different story. It was a sopping mess, from my current perspective I could see where, besides me, the trio had focused their attack. To make matters worse my backpack had been left open.

I'd learned better than to leave my textbooks in my locker since the beginning of the year. Carrying everything made my backpack heavy but that hasn't been an issue recently, up until now anyway. The last part of "the trio's" prank was the color everything including my hair clothes and backpack were dyed in the colors of a rainbow.

In the brief moments between the ignition and explosion relief washed through walls were slathered with waves red, a torrent running through the bathroom. At the same time my hands grew to encompass the small sink where small cracks formed at my touch. The room took on a red tint.

"Fuck!" I shouted as I stomped my way towards my former stall, the dark red liquid parting before my every step.

I grabbed a hold of my ruined book throwing it towards the mirror cracking it. My shoes were stretched to their limits and my scalp was scraping against the ceiling but I didn't care. I brought the backpack itself between my hands and squeezed it until could feel all the textbooks crumple in my grasp. With a single hand I chucked the clump of garbage towards a trash bin only for it to bounce off with a resounding crash.

I tried to speak but in the place of words a, yell that rolled into a lengthy roar, parted from my lips. My breathing came out ragged and slow.

Slightly calmed I came to the realization that I was probably being too loud. I was so wrapped up in my emotions I barely registered the bloody substance permeating the whole area. A force bigger than the entire room.

I was connected to everything; the flow of the a/c, to the hum of the electricity in the bulbs, and the puddle of chemicals spreading underneath the stalls. I would have preferred if it could consume the dye and clean me in the process. But alas, it could only move it around drying my off but leaving the stains intact. Still I had an important question to decide the answer to.

What was I gonna do?

For the first time since the transformation, I took a deep breath.I walked back to the sink with the cracked mirror taking several more as I did so. I needed to turn back and to do that I needed to calm down, If anyone walked in at the wrong moment that was it for me.

My skin was bright red, a far cry from my usual pale complexion. My already above average height was exaggerated, forcing me to lean down to see my face in the reflection. After the transition my hair and eyes were completely black where they had been blonde and brown respectively. Lastly, my transformation brought with it muscle mass that filled out my previously lacking figure. Regrettably that was the limits of my enhancements. I was calm enough to bring myself back to normal, but why should I?

If I chose to, I could leave the bathroom, find the trio, and make them regret ever hurting me. Heck with my powers it wouldn't be much trouble anyway. But if I did, there is no going back, sure the trio would be gone but the rest of my life would be spent in a prison like the birdcage or worse. Additionally, with four separate hero teams native to Brockton there'd be no escape.

I released a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. No point in considering the impossible. Even after everything she'd done I couldn't see myself hurting Emma or her lackeys. A part of her had been my closest friend in the years before Winslow. At one point she was the only reason I chose this school but now I doubted we'd ever be friends again.

Truth be told neither of us were actually evil. I faced real monsters before and would do so again on the streets of Brockton. Even better during those time I had a partner to guide me. From that head space I was able to muster the right emotions to change back. It was 'Peace' that I used to recall the rivers back into my body. The word less important than the sentiment, deliberate action over rage and impulse.

My body degraded into its regular shape with my clothes now stretched a size bigger rendering the baggier clothes even more so. The dye still clung to my hair, skin, and clothes if only now as somewhat lighter stains. Sophia was in my next class but there was no way in hell I'd give her the satisfaction and display her handiwork. I quickly re-tied my shoes before leaving the bathroom in a light jog.

I noticed Greg Verder nervously pacing outside the bathroom door waiting for me, I gave him no attention. Nor did I care about any of the curious looks from onlookers or the staff. I picked up the pace of my jog and with a growing smile across my face. I left Winslow to be a hero.


	2. Bleed 1-2

At first my running was clumsy. With each step my shoes swayed around my feet my earlier transformation must've stretched them further than I had anticipated. A bus was loading off passengers nearby, close enough that I could have hopped on.

Despite what little time I spent running my lungs were already burning in my chest. Somewhere along the way I progressed into a sprint, but at the rate I was moving it was obvious that my form and breathing were all wrong. It was difficult but necessary. If I wanted to be a hero, I would need to be in shape both as Taylor and 'Windigo.'It was one of the first things my partner advised me on. In the weeks since awakening my powers I began a regimen of cardio, callisthenics, and power training. My progress had been slow but steady, outside of my changer form I was in the best shape of my life.

But the impromptu training was only half the reason for why I had to keep moving, the rest had to do with Emma. Even after I got my powers I still held out hope for my ex-best friend. We were so close while growing up. Our dads, in particular, grew close in college and remained as such when they both eventually got married. It was only natural that their children kept up the tradition. I used to think of my family being twice as good with two moms, two dads and the best sister, a kid, could ask for. It was good while it lasted.

Looking back I never could place my finger on how it all went south in the end. But like everything else it had started with my mom. Neither she nor dad would tell me what happened, but I could tell things were strained. Next incident was between our fathers according to my dad, it was only a small disagreement between friends. Whatever it was shortly coincided with the visits to or from Emma's becoming increasingly infrequent. Still our friendship persisted. We still saw each other at school and carried on with regular phone calls before bed.

We confessed everything with each other, what are secrets among friends? I was so excited when Emma told me about the local model scout that had reached out to her. She was a nervous wreck, for hours she would point out every physical flaw she had real or everyone she uncovered I refuted by bringing up every positive trait she had. Apparently she had a lot, but of course she would she was my best friend and deserved what ever good came her way.

But once again mom ruined everything. Things between our parents went from strained to painfully awkward. Dad wasn't himself anymore, none of my family was anymore. The Barnes and the Heberts grew distant and for the first time Emma and I drifted apart. I figured then that a bit of distance would be good for us, a chance for us to change into better people. That was the summer before Winslow. Emma and I still talked but only occasionally, like a chore. I had hoped to fix that during the break but dad only got worse after what happened with Mom, he decided to send me away while he coped.

The first thing I did when I came back was speak to Emma, to divulge about how I had changed. But she was different too. That was the last conversation we'd have as , every intimate secret became open rumors, every insecurity loaded into barbed insults. She knew everything about me and used it all to destroy me. I could never consider hurting Emma Barnes but hate her? That I could do without hesitation. My sprint had only picked up speed fueled by resentment towards my former family. I must've looked crazed, a too tall of a girl running while flailing her arms and colored the different shades of the rainbow. I was everything but conspicuous, as noted by people getting out of my way long before I reached them.

I was almost home, turning the corner I picked up speed. Unfortunately at that moment so was someone else. I was moving too fast to stop, and my ruined shoes were no help at all. We collided, the speed of my run sent us both sprawling to the sidewalk. I tried to use my arms to cushion their fall but in my hurry forgot about my own descent. I scraped my head against the ground and could feel the gash sting at my temple. My vision was blurry, I started blinking to clear it up.

"I'm sorry, are you ok?" I asked groggily.

I felt a soft hand brush against my forehead pushing my hair away from the wound.

"It's alright and yes I'm fine, how about you?"

She had a pleasant voice it was similar to a friend or something of that sort. Blinking my eyes clear I could finally see who I knocked down.  
She had the greenest eyes I've ever seen; with the slightest shift of sunlight, the color in them changed from emerald, jade, to everything in between. I didn't notice I was staring until she scrunched her brow in concern.

"U-uh um yes I mean yeah I'm good."

I awkwardly pulled my arms from under her before offering a hand took a bit of effort not to gaze into her eyes again. I was grateful to get a better look at her she was around my age probably sixteen or seventeen but she dressed like a secretary. She wore her dark blonde hair in a bun, with a long sleeve blouse and a knee-length skirt. Despite her conservative choices in clothing, she was nonetheless attractive. Apparently I was staring again, because she brought her hand up to my face to check my gash.

"Are you sure you're ok, you're kinda spacing out." she said only this time with a subdued smile on her face. I only nodded. Her smile grew a bit wider as she rummaged through her purse eventually retrieving a handkerchief to offer me. It was then I recalled that I was sweaty and covered in enough color to make a clown jealous. I reflexively took a step back to which the girl took a step forward placing the silk cloth into my hand, shaking it as she did so.

"Hello I'm Amara" she said still holding my hand, "what's your name?"

"My name's Taylor, nice to meet you, " it really was.

"Are you being chased, I can call for help if you need it?"she said losing my hand and grabbing her cellphone.

"No, nothing like that I just wanted to get home is all, it's just been a real mess of a day you know?!"

I'd meant for the sentence to come out calmer than it had, but I instead managed to say all of it in under a only nodded politely probably looking for the quickest way out of this situation.

Instead, she said,"well even if that's the case I think you still might need this."

Producing a pen and blank business card, she wrote a few numbers on it before handing it to me.

"Here's my number in case you ever need it."

I could feel my cheeks go red. She must've noticed because her smile returned in all its glory.

"Nice meeting you Taylor, hopefully we'll see each other again soon," Amara said before turning the corner.

I continued on my way home walking now to marvel at the piece of paper. It felt like it weighed more than it should've, I stared as hard as I could at the numbers as if they'd disappear if I took my eyes away from them. I didn't know how long I spent burning the numbers into my head, but I arrived home in no time at all. Carefully folding the card, I tucked it into my pocket and braced myself to enter.

I stepped lightly on the porch and adjusted my weight accordingly; the stairs to the home had long since rotted away. The porch itself wasn't in much better shape it sagged and squeaked with the slightest provocation. Even with the majority of the window blinds closed, I didn't want to risk my dad overhearing my arrival in the middle of the school day. If he caught me, he'd probably just send me back to Winslow to attend the rest of the school day as a clown. I entered the quiet house slowly as to not create any disturbances with only a few stray strands of sunlight it was difficult to seem much of anything. I wasn't too worried about bumping into the furniture or anything mundane.

The more pressing concern lied with the scattered mounds of beer cans and glass bottles. Most of the living room had a faint trace of alcohol in the air, but the living room is only where my dad had left his empty cans. I turned to his office, a small room with a mini fridge and a computer for his job. The door was left around I soon found him standing motionless in the doorway of the kitchen a fresh beer in hand.

Daniel Hebert was a tall man seemingly made of only skin and bone. His beady and baggy eyes accentuated gave the constant impression that he was somewhere else than where he should have been. Most of the living room had a faint trace of alcohol in the air, but the living room is only where my dad had left his empty cans. If he were to walk the streets hed likely be mistaken for a homeless bum.

"Annette is that you?". He asked his voice barely above a whisper.

I knew what was coming next but that knowledge didn't make it any easier to endure. A part of me wanted to accept the hug meant for mom I almost did but decided against it at the last second.

" No dad, it's me Taylor,"I said in a voice so small I could barely hear it.

He froze mid hug and placed a single heavy hand over my shoulder. Staring with the same squinted eyes like he had done so many times before he was searching for the woman who had abandoned us years ago. Once he was finished, he wordlessly grabbed his liquor and proceeded to lock himself in his office.

I felt something wet near my eye reaching up I wiped away some of the blood that had dripped from my head wound. The blood had formed into a ring orbiting around my hand gaining speed with each rotation. I had more important things to do and with that I climbed the stairs towards the bathroom. On my way there I tossed Amara's number on my bed. The first thing I did upon entering the bathroom was to run cold water with my clothes still on. I needed a distraction and this would definitely do the trick.

I had zero hopes of salvaging my clothes the only use they were to me now was for training. I released a small portion of my blood cloud or 'wraith' as I liked calling it. The amount was only so much to surround most of my body. I tried controlling the wraith so that it would only remove a single article of clothing at a time. Single commands tended to work best 'up' for my sweater was easy enough but I ran into trouble when I got to the buttons of my under shirt. Instead of unbuttoning one at a time the wraith moved as a whole using its entire mass to attack the buttons.  
Thus tearing them free from the shirt and in the process ricocheting into my eye. That was the end of my experiment, but fine control was not among my strengths.

I stripped out of the clothes leaving them as a wet pile in the corner of the tub. I recalled most of my wraith back into myself but left some of it out to heal me. It formed a network of blood flowing from my the gash to my head towards the bruises on my neck and back. After a few minutes I was done with both my shower and my healing. Wrapping a towel around myself, I went downstairs to the basement where I kept my costume and gear.

The basement was crowded with junk all of it mainly due to how much of mom's stuff was down here. It was a mystery of how dad managed to get all this stuff down stairs. I didnt know him to have any friends to help him, and he was even less likely to allow hired help to handle Mom's stuff. Regardless, it provided me assured privacy. One of the things dads brought down here was a large rusted safe it was so old I had doubts that it was even functional. But it was what was underneath it that mattered to me. I slightly transformed gaining only a bit of muscle but enough to push the safe back without too much noise.

My efforts revealed the deep hole I had punched into the ground where I kept my costume and burner phone. With my particular power set getting a costume was already going to be a challenge, I didn't have the option between style and practicality. My costume was comprised of a pair black extra large thermal leggings and top. The last piece of my costume was large rain coat that reached down to my knees and protected my identity with a hood Windigo. The burner phone had only one contact loaded into it. Pausing for a moment I considered what was about to do. I almost felt a tinge of guilt, but the criminals deserved what was coming to them.

I sent her the text.

Windigo: Hey, I'm looking for some action tonight are you in?

I spent several minutes waiting for a response but was reassured by the answer.

Shadow Stalker: Hell yeah, let's meet here

The night had only begun.


	3. Bleed 1-3

It was nightfall by the time I had to leave for the rendezvous. I didn't cook anything for dinner tonight but dad knew how to order takeout. I didn't bother saying goodbye either, by now he was probably too drunk to care. I left the house in the pair of sweats from my 'costume' along with cheap sneakers and a hoodie. I carried my coat in a separate bag hanging from my back. The weather in Brockton was chilly around this time of year but rarely got to be frigid cold.

Even with all that said I felt exposed. I was still ill prepared not just with my costume but with every aspect of being a superhero. It was hard to believe that the last few months had actually happened, I knew that I was just nervous but the feeling persisted. I was refreshed after my earlier run from Winslow, but settled for a light jog on my way to the boardwalk just to relax. I needed something to keep busy and I knew just the thing.

Occasionally I would release the wraith in small amounts. I left control of it mostly to my subconsciously, the wraith feed on anyone I noticed nearby and as it feed it grew ever so slightly. Some of that growth would split off to travel back to me as fuel for later. It had taken me awhile to accept that blood was the source of my power. I had researched that regular blood was supposed to circulate for up to a hundred and twenty days. But with the wraith that number had shrunk into a little over a month and continued to decline with regular use of my powers.

Blood feed the wraith, the wraith feed my powers, and my powers let me help people. Everything required it, all I needed were mere seconds of contact and most people would barely notice. I took special care not to feed from anyone who looked sick or otherwise diseased. Not strictly out of fear of infection, but because I wouldn't risk the possibility of any medical emergency from my carelessness.

These two constraints limited me to densely packed locations like the boardwalk. With Brockton being a coastal city, the boardwalk was where all the tourists and their money flocked towards. It was exclusive in the sense that a small cup of coffee cost fifteen dollars and that estimate had likely been cheaper than the actual price. It was a place of jewelry, fine dining and expensive fashion, a playground for the rich. My only concern was being caught. Every shop had multiple cameras that pointed towards every direction. I'd even heard rumors of security hiding among the crowd for immediate response time. With how expensive everything was it made sense that it would all need protection. I picked up my walk into a slow jog my clothes were suspicious enough already no point in sticking around. I released several more milliliters of the wraith keeping them lowered to the floor. I dispersed them around the boardwalk as fast as I could. If a single person saw what I was doing things would get a lot more complicated.

As if to punctuate the point the clouds shifted to reveal the golden towers of the Protectorate HQ. The former oil rig had been renovated into a high-tech fortress, shrouded by a translucent force field, it served as the base for the adult heroes. Growing up my parents couldn't shield me from all of the rumors surrounding capes. Its golden towers shining in the moonlight, it brought to mind the countless rumors surrounding the building. Some of the more outlandish ones claimed the building possessed some kind of super-powered laser weapon. It was located in a place where it could be seen by most of the city. It was a clear message the Protectorate was meant to be a powerful shield covering all of us.

It was a difficult sentiment to trust with the Nemean's silver ring currently orbiting in the sky above.

Yet for all the Protectorates power and reach crime still infected the city. It wasn't their fault; it would be naive to think they alone could put an end to every injustice. It would be easy to criticize when they were the ones risking their lives every day. But that being said the heroes existed in a cycle; the heroes would capture a villain for a short time, eventually that same villain would escape with the help of their allies, and then it happened all over again. It was a pointless loop where the heroes were not losing per say, but they didn't win either. I still admired the heroes but for now at least I wanted my approach to the hero life to be under my terms.

I called back the last of my wraith as I ventured into the docks. It was a street or two between the boardwalk and the docks, I knew where I was by the lack of functioning streetlights and the faintest smell of garbage. The impressive building that was the Protectorate headquarters now became little more than silhouette. Under the cover of darkness I would have been allowed greater freedom to feed my power.

The issue arose with the docks itself, unlike the boardwalk the docks was a hub for criminals and the destitute. When the import/export industry crashed it took most of the cities economy with it. Some people managed to adapt getting jobs in technology and software, like my dad had done. Unfortunately, the majority of people who relied on the former economy were left with few viable options outside of illegal activity; as a result area's like, the docks experienced a surge in gang population and crime. But at this time of night I wouldn't run into crowds of gangsters on the street, only crack whores, the homeless and drunkards. I was pretty self assured that I couldn't get sick from my power but I had no desire to test that theory anytime soon.

Most of the people I came across were either too out of it to see me or just avoided me altogether. It made sense, with the hoodie shrouding my face it was difficult to determine my gender, and in this part of town people dressed how I was rarely had good intentions. I had eased back into a brisk walking pace as to avoid garnering unwanted attention and to not trip along the cracked and uneven sidewalk. Despite the dilapidated state of the neighborhood, I did eventually reach an area where some of the street lamps were functional, under one such light stood a trio of Asian men.

The only thing that caused them to stand out to me was the red and green colors they wore identifying them as members of the A.b.b. Normally when I came across gangsters I feed a little more than I usually did. The blood loss wouldn't affect them in the long term, but it would make them light headed for a couple of hours. With the added bonus of an easier to fight in the near future. The only reason I hadn't done so yet was to overhear their conversation. Under their leader the Abb was a diverse blend of Asians thus in regular conversation they spoke English, a language that everyone had some level of comprehension. One of the men held out a weapon in the open, a knife that he was stabbing towards his friends. Not in a threatening sense but more as an example.

"I'm gonna stab that fucking bitch before she even knows whats going on," said the man swinging the knife

"Hey fool, cut that out before you hurt somebody." the oldest member of the trio said before taking a step back

"Man forget just one, I want to kill all those punk ass kids," said the third gangster. From where I watched them he looked like someone old enough to attend Winslow."Do you guys remember where we meet everybody else?"he asked, pulling out his phone to check for the answer.

According to the street signs I was near where I was supposed to meet Shadow Stalker. For as long as I had known her she had always given off a serious vibe. Not in the sense that she was hard to work with but more like this was a job, she expected punctuality. But there was no way I was going to just ignore criminals contemplating violence when they were right in front of me. I wanted to send her a text alerting her to what I was doing, but doing so would probably light up my face in the process. I would need to stay hidden if I wanted to follow them. I could text shadow stalker my location once I arrived to wherever the Abb were gathering. In the meantime I tracked the group, taking extra care not too step under any street lights lest any of them turn around.

I knew where I was headed likely had more thugs than I had ever encountered before. In the months leading up to now shadow stalker and I only engaged with small groups of between one and a dozen thugs. Mostly petty theft or harassment of anyone they came maybe meant a gun or two. But from how the trio were speaking earlier it sounded like we were going into a situation where the majority of people were armed and ready for violence.

For all I knew 'those punk ass kids' referred to a group of actual children or just a couple of teenagers who had pissed off the wrong person. I wasn't blind to the possibility of their targets being a rival gang. In the docks gang violence was just a way of life. Regardless of that fact I couldn't just abide with any of the inevitable collateral damage. That being the case if the conflict were to be something more than a minor gang dispute than it was more than likely that other capes would be involved. Shadow stalker had made it clear that under no circumstances would we face other capes if we could avoid it. I couldn't help but to agree with her, as strong as our powers were there was always someone stronger.

Lung for instance, was infamous for fighting the entire Protectorate and winning. He was a major reason for why the Abb were so feared. If we had to fight someone like him the outcome could only be bad. That idea was enough to give me pause but not to the point of cowardice. I could never stand against my bullies as regular Taylor, their was no fucking way I was going to cower as a cape as well.

I continued walking behind the trio, my heart thumping rapidly with anticipation. They maintained a steady pace until they took a sharp turn. I followed them only to encounter the barrel of a gun inches from my face.

"You think we wouldn't notice you stalking us, bitch?" the oldest one asked as the other two pulled their own weapons.

My veins were iced over, the gun in my face took up most of my mental space. I could just barely make out the bullet in the chamber. Aware that the slightest movement could get me killed I was petrified. The youngest one moved to pull down my hoodie thus revealing bundles of my lengthy blonde hair. Predatory smiles immediately fell upon all their faces. The oldest one stroked his hand against my cheek.

"Well well sweetheart were kind of in a hurry but I think we can squeeze in some fun time-"

He was cut off as an arrow suddenly sprouted in the hand touching my face.

"What the fuc-," the knife wielder had begun to say before similar arrows were shot into both his and his partner's shoulders.  
My body was too shocked to move despite the waves of relief surging through me. Shadow Stalker manifested from the darkness behind me firing another arrow into the oldest man's knee. All three of them were screaming in agony but no one was coming to help, 'help' didn't happen in the docks.

"Your hood," stalker reminded in her gruff voice.

That being the moment I snapped out of my stupor I immediately complied, kicking myself for having been so stupid. Shadow stalker crouched down ripping out each arrow and inspecting them before placing them back into her quiver. Her costume was even more bargain bin than mine. Her costume consisted of a hockey mask with the rest of her "armor" being similarly comprised of various sporting pads and guards all spray painted black. She went for the anti-hero look using a combination of her long black cloak, weapons, and demeanor she managed to pull it off.

"I saw you following these guys and decided to see what you were doing, you should've called me."

I wanted to defend my actions but now wasn't the time instead I said,"they were talking about going somewhere to kill some kids I decided to follow them so they could lead me to them. "

"You need to be more careful," was all she to me said before turning to the injured men.

"Where were you guys going?" she asked nocking back another arrow.

The older man began to speak but not before the youngest interrupted. "Man don't tell these bitches shit!"

Stalker wordlessly released the arrow into his other yet again she pointed it back at the first man. This was how she tended to operate, attacking a problem relentlessly until it finally caved.

It was effective but also time consuming and that was something we didn't have much of. I was never the biggest fan of torture and things needed to happen faster. I stepped to the side and out of my shoes placing my bare feet on the cracked cement. Unzipping my coat, I grew to my full size and stepped between Stalker and the thug. Moving above him, I crouched down using one of my hands to wrap around his throat and pulled him close to my face. With the other I slid the nail of my index finger down his cheek leaving a shallow cut.

I spoke in a whisper,"Where were you headed, bitch?"


	4. Bleed 1-4

The chilled air flapped through my coat as we hopped from the various rooftops. After our questioning, the location of the warehouse was quickly revealed. Only now did I realize I had forgotten to ask for justification in the who or why. In the end however, that didn't matter half as much as actually preventing murder in the first place.

We ended up leaving the criminals to bleed in the street. None of their wounds were fatal and at least one of them had the means to call for an ambulance. The last thing I did was to crush their weapons disarming them while also demonstrating what could have easily happened to them. Making those bullies tremble felt like a good omen for the rest of the night.

Roof hopping proved to be the quickest way for us to reach the warehouse. With my bare feet I would slide a bit before stopping. The gravel was barely noticeable but still did force me into a cycle of skidding to a halt before my next spite of the shabby condition of most of the buildings neither of us were worried much about falling through.

In my current form a fall from a few stories probably wouldn't harm me. Shadow stalker could simply avoid the impact entirely. It had taken me awhile to get as comfortable as I was now, although a small part of me still hesitated to so casually jump off buildings.

It showed in how I was just slightly behind Stalker. She remained human until just before the jump, then like a shadow she was pitch black and weightless. The way she sprinted between buildings had rhythm and confidence that showed in her every motion.

When we first meet, seeing her in costume reminded me more of a child playing dress up than an actual superhero. But that perception shifted as I got to know her. She was the one to help me when I first triggered, she helped me escape from the chest and escorted me home in the dark of night. She was the one to check up on me during the following day over text messages, when dad had been drunk to even leave his office.

Over those first several weeks, we kept in touch me with my recovery and powers, and her with tales of nightly heroics. I wanted to be like her, someone who could fight against the monsters and win.

It had taken a bit of convincing but eventually she agreed to take me on as her partner. Normally we limited our activities to smaller crimes, incidents that would otherwise go unnoticed by the protectorate.

Our patrols were mapped out by Shadow stalker and mostly focused on the docks where it was unlikely we'd be noticed. But tonight is going to be different, it has to be. So far this arrangement hasn't been one I could see myself come to regret in the near future.

We arrived at the warehouse only a few minutes later. It was one in a row of abandoned warehouses. Most of them were characterized by their patches of graffiti or the shattered glass littered around their broken windows. Ever since the economic shift in Brockton, the warehouses that once contained various goods and products were now either the homes of vagrants or drug dens.

The one Stalker and I watched over right now had several cars pulled out in front of it. They'd run out of space forcing them to spread out farther towards the other buildings. Entering the building was a constant stream of people dressed in various shades of red and green.

It was the largest gathering of ABB I'd ever seen in one place. Whatever was going on was big.

I felt a hand press upon my shoulder; Shadow stalker had turned towards me phone in hand,"If you want, we don't have to do this. That's a lot of guys, we can always call someone else."

I did not respond at first. Of course she was right, the heroes were always a call away. But what was the point of turning back now when my entire reason for being here was exactly this?

"No." I said looking her in the eye."We go in, beat the bad guys, and then we leave."

Shadow stalker only turned away in response but I could nonetheless feel that she was smiling.  
We made our way to the back of the gang warehouse. Powers weren't any excuse to be reckless. We came across a single lookout watching through a broken window.

In quick succession I yanked him out of the window and face first into the asphalt, Shadow stalker shot him for good measure.

Peering in, we could see the building was lit by a collection of scattered garbage fires. The goons had set up a makeshift stage out of wooden crates and slabs.

As they waited for the speaker, most stood around distracted in conversation. I could only spot a few of them that didn't sport some manner of gun.

In that moment I inexplicably began to think of the bullies from Winslow. What would they think if they could see me now? Would they regret their actions then? My thoughts drifted to my dad, and I wished that he'd have some sentiment towards the current situation but disinterest was the only fit for him. I definitely needed to roll some heads.

The majority of my wraith poured into the building. My earlier feedings had developed it to be several times larger than it had been at Winslow.

It managed to spread across the room, cutting off all the doors and windows in the process, no one was going to escape.

A wave of shock and confusion ran through the room. I could sense several gang members shoot at the barrier and when that failed they attempted to push past it instead.

In response my wraith proceeded to feed on anyone who touched it doing so with such speed that mere contact was painful.

Dozens of ABB thugs had their weapons drawn and aimed in every direction, prepared for an unseen enemy. Climbing through the window I obscured the front of the room with the rest of my wraith only dispersing it once we were on the stage.

"Drop your weapons!" Shadow stalker said with several arrows already pulled back.

The room had been silent for only a moment before the initial sounds of gunfire rang out.

Stalker was gone, leaving me alone to face the incoming fire. I covered my face out of habit. The bullets merely bounced off, they stung for but didn't pierce my skin. I pulled a few gallons of the wraith around myself molding it into a orbiting ring.

I collapsed some of the barrier lining the walls into a wave and sent it crashing into then, mob temporarily halting the gunfire. I leaped off the stage with explosive force trailing shrapnel as I did.

My ring intercept me in its tide shifting my course as I fell. My new direction had made a gangster my new landing pad. He screamed as he fell but it was cut short by the air being choked out of him.

He wasn't alone, having stood near a group of his buddies. They held their guns close to me, but none dared shoot. One of the thugs farthest from me had recovered enough to aim.

But before he could shoot two arrows landed in his hand and shoulder. Stalker had taken up a nest in the rafters shooting anyone she could.

In a fluid motion I approached the man, snatching him up, and flinging him towards the rest of the group.

The initial shock wore off, the criminals had reorganized into a single mob. Stalker must've become intangible, because I could feel the mobs gunfire increase around me.

The bullets still mostly bounced off but were leaving small gashes where my skin had become tender.

Fuck this.

I tugged on the wraith from every corner of the room. It descended like a dense fog clouding the room in crimson mist. Sacrificing some of the wraith, I extinguished the fires leaving the room solely illuminated by moonlight.

The blood had immediately healed the minor cuts and gashes leaving me refreshed to continue the fight.

My wraith could sense the location of every person in the room. They jerked around erratically, swivelling their barrels at the slightest sound in search of their target. They were right to be terrified.

Sprinting towards the closest cluster I made sure my approach was heard. Dissipating the mist around us, I startled one of the goons with my sudden appearance.

He shot towards my face, but the bullet merely grazed my cheek. He didn't get a second chance; I grasped his hand and pistol crumpling both into useless pulp. His criminal friends could only witness as he dropped to the floor, weeping.

I moved towards the next closest thug backhanding him in a single motion. His body twisted at an odd angle, before hitting the ground with a hard snap.

Another gang member quickly raised his gun, but I had managed to wrap my hand around the barrel before he could fire. The resulting explosion sent him flying back from the shrapnel.

The noise of this and my previous attacks had alerted nearby groups starting a new round of shooting. Unfortunately several people were in the crossfire.

I managed to intercept the incoming bullets while also managing to clothesline the remainder of the initial cluster. One of the gangsters who I must've only grazed began to rise. Before she could I grabbed her shoulder throwing her into the wall with a painful scream.

That triggered a chain reaction where each cluster began shooting in every direction. Immediately I began running across the room tackling, punching or throwing everyone I encountered.

Again I wondered about Emma's reaction if she could see me right now? Would it have been shock, regret, fear even? The thought was triggered by those very emotions flashing across several of the faces I encountered.

Eventually, some of them even dropped their weapons in an attempt to flee, but I wouldn't let them.

Instead, I condensed the bloody fog into a single river. The wraith quickly gathered up each of the stragglers in the raging rapid.

Once they were trapped in the bloody whirlpool, I let them struggle to breathe, taking a moment for consideration.

They were people who went out of their way to hurt those they considered their lesser. They didn't deserve a soft touch.

The remaining gang members were lifted into the air by the scarlet geyser. They reached about halfway to the rafters until they dropped back to the floor.

The first to fall were followed by the sickening sound of broken bones. The luckier ones fell with a dry thud courtesy their fleshy cushions.

The only sound in the moonlit room had become the injured groaning of several dozen ABB members. The air was thick with blood. Most of their guns lie either disarmed or discarded. I made sure to gather the weapons in a corner for the police.

Shadow stalker had dropped down by my side carrying a noticeably empty quiver. Even with her mask on it was clear that she was practically beaming.

"Wow!"

"What?"

"I knew you wanted to blow off some steam, but geez Herbert!" Shadow stalker had said in her regular voice.

Looking around, even with only the moonlight I could see that I might've gone a little over boa-Wait what?!

Before I could process what Shadow stalker had just said two men had entered the warehouse.

From the looks of their silhouettes, they both wore masks. The larger one took a drag from his cigarette before speaking.

"Lee, go."

The shorter man walked forward before seemingly disintegrating. A moment later, something exploded next to us.


	5. Bleed 1-5

The force of the explosion was enough to send me to tumbling to the ground. I couldn't see or hear anything as the world around me shook and screamed. I had to force the wraith to heal me so I could stand back up. With the ringing in my ears having subsided I could hear a series of explosions. Flashes of light revealed what was happening.

Stalker was being chased through the warehouse by a teleporting explosion. The man or 'Lee' as his friend had called him, seemingly appeared in two places at once, each of his prior clones would detonate mere moments later. He would track Stalker in his attempts to predict where'd she go and teleport near that spot. Stalker for her part was constantly moving in either of her forms. Lee had needed time to see where she was headed, but that in return had allowed her the chance to alter her course.

Even as a shadow, I could make out stalker recoiling from the explosions she only barely avoided. The two of them followed each other with rhythm almost like a dance. But Stalker was out of weapons, out of options I could try and help but I had my own problems to deal with.

The taller man had stood motionless, only moving to smoke his cigarette as he watched me pick myself up. The burst of light combined with that of his own cigar had revealed that hadn't bothered to wear a shirt. I didn't know his powers, but he was huge standing just above six feet, his chiseled body form his neck to lower abdomen were tattooed with various images dragons from eastern myth. The only thing he wore that could be considered a costume was the ornate reptilian mask shaped more like a dragon than anything else.

This man had seemed familiar, years ago I recalled seeing a picture of his face on the news with the advisory to avoid at all costs. He was one of the few parahuman's my parents showed me growing up, used as a cautionary tale of how dangerous parahumans could really be. He was the only person to take on the entire protectorate and specifics of his power weren't widely known to the public only that he was strong and dangerous. In the bay he was the warlord, he was Lung.

All the while my tattered bullet riddled costume fell to pieces. I wasn't anywhere near immodest, but I was approaching the point where my bargain bin costume looked more and more like homeless rags.

I got into a fighting stance and could feel that something was off, like I was somewhat unbalanced and had also raised my hands a little too high. I felt like a caricature of what a fighter should be, the smirk that formed around his mouth didn't help build any confidence either. He spat out his final puffs of his smoke and began to casually walk towards me.

He got close enough to me that I could punch him only for him to slap them away as I did so. My powers only enhanced what I had, unfortunately, physical combat wasn't in that category.

With an almost casual flick, Lung had tossed the cigar towards my face, its dwindling spark suddenly bursting to life. I immediately released the wraith from my face quenching the fire before it had even more of a chance to burn me. I jumped back to make some distance between us.

For sure I knew Lung was a pyrokinetic I currently had a counter to that, but my wraith was limited. I needed to use it wisely. The red mist from earlier was still floating mid-air at my discretion. It congealed into yet another wave but instead of attacking Lung it only briefly blocked his vision. More than enough time for me to jump forward with a punch that landed squarely in his jaw. I could feel the crunch as his jaw had given way to my fist.

The small victory was short lived however, with the area around Lung suddenly being engulfed in flames. I tried to pull my hand back, but it was yanked forward before I could. Lung used my arm to drag my entire body forward and up raising me into a toss before slamming me to the ground. I was aware of the cracks that formed around my dented crater. This was the second time I had been hurt as Wendigo.

Lung didn't wait for me to get up, through the remaining mist I could sense his fist incoming towards my head. I'd managed to roll out of the way but not quick enough to completely avoid the blow. Short of breath I scrambled up to me feet. Lung stood near my crater a few yards away. He was different now taller for sure, additionally his muscles seemed unnatural for a regular man to possess.

One of Lee's explosions shook the building.

Lung had seemed to get faster and stronger the longer our fight progressed. I could keep up for the time being but eventually that would cease to be the case. The fight would devolve into regular Taylor versus a fucking monster. I could always try to escape but if that failed the latter scenario would occur even sooner.

Lung approached this time however he moved with a quickness that left me exposed. He delivered a solid hook to my temple causing my vision to blur. He followed up the attack with another that sent me skidding back to the ground. I tried to defend myself with a blind kick but that only resulted in him knocking it away to get on top of me.

Why weren't my hands up? I needed to do something before he beat my face in, his flame aura from earlier was still active but I pushed past it. Reaching out to the rest of the building, I found every trace of the wraith and pulled it back into my body.

The additional blood couldn't make me significantly stronger, but it would keep me in my prime for longer. I needed more time. As if he were also a telepath lung moved his hands around my throat, pressing his full weight down on my windpipe. It became hard to breathe, but now I had enough strength to break one of his wrist with both of my hands.

The bones didn't so much break, as they did bend as a durable metal would under intense stress would. Though the end result was the same. Lung recoiled enough that I could kick and climb my way out from under him. He'd begun to rise but for once I was faster. I landed several blows to his head using a desperate combination of hands and elbows.

I gave up on trying to harm him with any technique, if I was going to win I had to do so quickly. Even as he fell under my attacks I wasn't confident that any of it would matter in the next few seconds. With each passing moment I could feel my blows affect him less and less. His muscles grew denser, his bones healed faster, pain cried out from my hands as they pummeled his changing form.

I jumped back not a moment too soon, as burst of fire appeared from thin air where I was just standing.

"Bitch!" Lung shouted as the fire grew around him.  
His flames were large enough to cover most of the building now, they climbed the wall blocking off the doors and windows behind him. Stalker and Lee carried their fight behind me, by now pieces of the ceiling had collapsed in their wake. I could leave but there was no way id let Stalker face these two on her own. We were trapped.

Lung stood to his full height which was now around nine feet tall, enough that he towered over me. I noticed from the fire that gleamed off of it that his skin had gained a metallic quality to it. As he moved I could only make out the fire as it trailed behind him.

I tried to dodge but to no avail, he caught me by the leg. I could hear my skin sizzle at his touch. I didn't have time to wallow in that pain however as Lung used my leg to slam the rest of my body into the ground.

Unlike the previous time he didn't let go, instead he raised me again to throw me back into the floor like a rag-doll. After the second throw, I could feel something in my knee give. He continued to swing me against the floor like this several more times.

Eventually, I was able to focus enough to escape by slightly reverting back to Taylor.

Unfortunately, I did this mid swing causing me to be thrown up into the air. I still managed to aim a large piece of my wraith towards his eyes; most of it died to the surrounding heat but enough had made it that I could blind him. The shock of having all the blood sucked out of his eyes was enough to distract him as I fell back onto the hard ground. I crawled away slowly, I needed time to heal my wounds.

Lung roared with rage, spewing fire with every shout. Even as I felt my connection to his eyes wither, I still knew that I had succeeded in buying myself a few moments. The wraith worked form the inside out healing my internal injuries first, like my concussion and ruptured organs. I felt my reserves drop about a quarter from where they were before.

Apparently Lung had done a lot more damage than I first thought. I stopped my healing mid way, forcing the rest of it on my knee and nothing else. My other injuries could be handled later i needed to ration every bit of my powers.

I rose to my feet with a sharp breath, apparently that was enough for Lung to find me. So I could add super hearing to his list of powers. His eyes were still the dried out husk, but the rest of his body kept on evolving. His skin was now covered in overlapping layers of metallic scales, fire danced between them melting them into a molten slag that was replaced by more scales. His face shifted to accommodate the new pair of fangs that seemed too big for his jaws, transforming it to be more on more animalistic than human.

What the fuck? I needed to think but staring at Lung I could only draw up blanks. He pounced to where he had last heard me. I didn't make a sound but my burning skin was enough to give me away. He nearly grabbed my arm, but I jumped away into the fire behind him. I sacrificed some of my wraith for more breathing room but the fires were too fierce and the space I had cleared was barely enough for me to stand on.

Suddenly a voice was yelling something in a foreign language one of Lungs flunkies had woken up and was trying to warn their boss. Before they could finish speaking however, Lung had shot a wave of fire in their direction, He would've immolated all of his goons had I not shot out a blast of my own power to intercept it. Even with my intervention some of the flames still landed on the bodies.

I didn't have time to address them as Lung had already fired another blind shot only this time where I was actually standing. I leapt towards it using my wraith to protect me through the wall of flames. My previous feats left the wraith at about half capacity I had begun to struggle to prevent my form from slowly slipping away.

Lung was too hot for me to touch so I doused him with the wraith instead. The smell of burning blood filled the air. I focused it on areas where Lung still had exposed skin, but his fires evaporated them before they could do any real damage. With nothing else left, I resorted to my fist. I punched him with all the force I could muster breaking my hands in the process.

My wraith continually poured out of me extinguishing his flames just as fast as he could produce them. I could have used some of the blood to mend my split knuckles but my power couldn't focus on both healing me and attacking Lung.

Through the wraith I could sense how he was going to attack in advance giving me enough time to dodge. I was winning the battle, for now at least. It was happening incrementally but both of us were changing.

The power of my punches was diminishing, probably due to the pain in my hands and my transformation back into Taylor. At the same time Lung was growing, it was taking more of the wraith to cover him. Lung stopped trying to hit me and simply rushed into me sending me crashing into the ground.

I tried to roll away, but he was too big, one of his hands pinned down the left side of my body. I pulled the wraith back in, bracing for what was coming. His massive fist rammed my head into the concrete. I raised up my free hand to protect myself, but it only fell away too his next blow.

The taste of copper filled my mouth as black spots filled my vision. The rest of my body lay prone on the ground, all of my focus to commanding the wraith to heal my head. At any moment I felt as if it would burst under Lungs assault. My burning skin was barely noticeable, only a slight pain at the edge of my consciousness.

At some point Lung had raised me up by my neck, he was standing now holding my throat between his fingers. Blood flowed freely from my swollen head. Lung stood as if he wanted to stare into my eyes with his blind ones, he slowly squeezed. He attempted to smile with his over sized teeth, apparently he was savoring the moment.

This isn't how I thought I would die, beaten to death in the middle of a burning warehouse by a literal dragon.

Suddenly one of the windows behind Lung shattered as someone on a motorcycle jumped through it. They trailed a wide jet of foam behind them that managed to put out the fires to most of the warehouse and the burning thugs.

Lung maintained his tight grip around my throat as he turned towards the noise. For his trouble he was shot with several dozens of tranquilizers from what looked to be a pole-arm of some kind. He was still standing, however, so I released the final vestiges of the wraith from my body and sent it towards him. The tranqs were enough to cease his fire leaving Lung defenseless against me.

He dropped me to the ground as the wraith fell upon him. I feed on every ounce of blood in his body leaving him a shriveled husk. I wasn't sure if he was dead and in that moment I couldn't muster the energy to care.

Shortly afterwards the explosions that had been chasing Shadow stalker were suddenly absent. The building that was so loud a moment ago seemed still now.

I could move most of my body to some degree but not much, I was able to somewhat transform into Wendigo but only enough to obscure my identity. It wouldn't last for long though, most of my power was going into healing me, I had a few solid minutes left of my transformation.

Turning my head I caught a glimpse of Shadow stalker. She had collapsed to her knees while she gasped for air, her mask was partially raised for the to breathe revealing part of her face in the process. The rest of her costume didn't look much better. Bits of her cape were either signed or completely gone, and several of her pads were heat warped. Her clothes stuck to her body and looked to be drenched in sweat. Her half of the warehouse was unrecognizable with most of it having been reduced to rubble.

Next to her stood the man from the bike, he was holding out a bottle of water for her to drink. When it became clear that she wouldn't immediately grab it he placed it next to her on the floor. He walked toward me ready with another bottle in hand.

He was definitely a cape it was obvious from the blue and silver power armor he wore. His face was concealed with a helmet and visor, only leaving his lower jaw and trimmed beard exposed. I knew I'd seen him somewhere before but the memory was slow to surface with my concussed head. He had apparently seen what I had done to Lung, dropping the water bottle he quickly produced his halberd, pointing it towards me.

As he got closer, I could make out further details of his armor like his emblem it was a silhouette of his visor over a silver background. That same emblem was on the pair of underwear my parents had grounded me for buying years ago. The memory clicked, the cape that was brandishing his weapon towards my face was the hero Armsmaster.

My night just kept getting better.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be used against you-" Armsmaster was cut off by Shadow stalker.

She removed her mask completely revealing her face,"We aren't the bad guys here!"Sophia Hess said."If you just listen to us-"

I stopped listening. In that moment I recalled every instance of manipulation and deceit. The months of torment at her hands alone. Blood boiled in my veins the wraith responsive to my mood

"Fucking why?!" I said with all the venom I could muster.

I moved faster than I thought possible in my current condition. Charging past Armsmaster I went directly for Sophia. Punching her with a vicious uppercut I wished I could inflict months worth of pain in that single motion.  
Oddly enough she didn't phase to avoid it, when it connected it had enough force to carry her into the air.

I didn't have long to savor the moment as I soon felt something stab into my back. Turning around I caught Armsmaster fire another tranq into my abdomen. I could barely feel the second one as the world suddenly became one huge swirl to me.

The last thing I felt was a giant something grab me in its jaws and then a lurch as it leaped into the dark sky.


	6. Bleed Interlude 1

Three months ago

She liked the feeling running gave her. She could never quite narrow down the exact emotion only that running had always been a means of relaxation. A way for her too, ironically enough, slow down and take in the world around her. P.E was one of the only classes she liked, it having been one of the few she didn't have to steal or cheat for.

Not that she'd ever had to do any of that herself, Emma had proven useful in certain girl herself had caught her staring and had stopped chatting up her entourage to wave. Sophia returned the favor.

Emma had been the lucky accident. Sophia hadn't planned on saving Emma or her dad from the ABB. It wasn't all that memorable all things considered, but Sophia had let herself be a little more open towards the girl on little more than a hunch. Initially, Emma came across someone who'd be perceived as charming by most, if not a touch needy.

At the time Sophia had been unsure whether or not befriending the girl was worth the effort. It wasn't until she confirmed that they would be attending the same highschool that Sophia had been reassured she'd made the right decision.

For the last year and a half, Emma had made nice with enough people that classes mostly devolved into idle conversation. Grades had become an issue of the past, but the real prize had been status. Sophia, Emma, and by some extent Madison were the top social clique of the school. Even in a trash heap like Winslow that meant something, not even the attending gang members acted out towards them due to the inevitable backlash.

Sophia had since realized that she'd already had all the power she would ever need. But accepting that fact only left her feeling hollow. Nothing that happened at Winslow would mean anything in the long run. It was fortunate that Sophia had met Emma but in the end she was a nobody. Her scope was too limited for her to be considered a useful tool.  
Sophia's slow pace was still faster than most of the remaining students. One of the classmates she was lapping yet again was one Taylor Hebert.

It was Madison's idea to cut up Taylor's gym uniform. The result was a tardy Taylor being forced to run in her regular clothes. P.E. was their second class of the day, so Taylor would be forced to wear the same clothes for the rest of the day.

It had been noticeable when she had first started to cover up 's various layers of shirts, sweaters, and hoodie were excessive for so early into the year. It was an obvious sign of weakness but she was right to feel ashamed.

Her shell of clothing was detrimental to her run. Her denim jeans would cause her calves to chaff, and her clothes were littered with spots of sweat. Taylor had seen Sophia approach and had tried to get out of her way. She was too slow to dodge Sophia as she drove her knee, yet again into her lower back.  
"Herbert! Take five more laps!"Coach Johnson shouted."You'll keep running until that gets through your thick skull!"

Coach Johnson kept a close eye on the track. Sophia was his top runner after all, and he was known to pick favorites.

Sophia could make out the awkward stomping of Taylor's run behind her. The girl probably thought that this was the extent of Sophia's bullying for the day. Normally she would've been right but today had months of planning behind it. The bullying was one of the chores of befriending Emma.  
Introducing her to the concept of predator and prey was only intended as a means of reassuring her after the attack. Sophia had intended for Emma to re-categorize herself, but she couldn't anticipate how wide Emma would apply that philosophy.

Sophia had spent hours on end listening to every bit of dirt Emma could possibly bring up concerning her former best friend. By the time Sophia had started attending Winslow, it was as if she had known Taylor since childhood.

It had been years since Sophia had first heard the philosophy from Steven and it had still irked her. It was one thing to be a predator, to survive among the prey. But eventually everyone would be prey to someone else.

There had to be a way to escape the structure entirely. The fantasy seemed a bit impossible, to live free from all authority or consequence, but so had the superpowers at one point. Sophia lapped Taylor again, but was too deep in thought to kick the girl.

Whatever her solution would be, it would require her to be stronger than she was. Emma had been a tool, a convenient means to an otherwise pointless end. What Sophia wanted, what she needed was a weapon, something that would amount to one step closer to her goal. Taylor didn't seem like much, but she could be a step in that direction.  
Emma had been planning to do something big to her former best friend. As her current one Sophia couldn't help but make suggestions or even her own contributions. Madison had already done her part by cutting up Taylor's gym uniform. All that was left was for Sophia to force her into the trap.

Emma through her connections had made sure most of the school had otherwise known about or actually took part in the prank. Taylor was yet again to be made a laughing stock of the school. It was all pretty routine by now, the planned prank was just on a larger scale.

The end of class came quicker than expected. Sophia had felt refreshed after the half-hour of light jogging, out of the corner of her eye she spotted Taylor. The girl moved as if walking required her full attention. She was oblivious to the glances that followed her to the locker room.

The inside of the girls locker room was dimly lit throughout. The room itself was divided between the toilets and showers that were adjacent to the rows of cheap lockers. The former half of the locker room was only occasionally used due to the foul stench emanating from toilets that had never been cleaned.

The only person to have experienced the toilets up close, was standing alone in her corner of the room. Sophia watched her from behind as she seemed to be in a trance of either tugging at her clothes or merely staring off into her locker.

"Ugh! Why is she staring at me?"Emma said, starting chorus of insults that followed her remark.

Sophia felt like a twinge of pride in how Taylor slightly cramped herself into her corner. That pride slowly turned into concern, not for the girl herself but for Sophia's plan. Was this all their was to Taylor?

Sophia had long since theorized the cause for powers being a type of trauma. For her it was a moment where she had been at her weakest. She couldn't remember all of it, but she could recall enough to trace the cause.

Would any of this be worth it if Taylor was the type to become traumatized? Sophia didn't really know the answer to that, but if she failed with Taylor she could always try again with other nobodies.

After the teasing had died down Taylor was approached by Julia, a pretty girl who had spent weeks warming up to Emma.

"You know Taylor if you want you can always borrow some of my clothes for the day." Julia said while holding out a pair of sweatpants and shirt for Taylor.

She hadn't stepped near Taylor but stood farther out extending her hand with the clothes pinched between her fingers. Her nose was scrunched up in an exaggerated expression of disgust. Taylor paused briefly before she walked out of her corner towards Julia.

Before Taylor could even touch the clothes Sophia was behind her. Taylor had turned around in alarm but the motion would only helped Sophia snap her down. She fell on her back with a hard thud against the tiled floor.

Taylor writhed and gasped on the floor. Sophia moved above her, flashing a bright smile at the shocked girl. Sophia tugged at the girls hair coaxing her into raising her arms. Sophia grabbed hold of Taylor's arms dragging her towards the chest left open in the showers.

It was an old trunk that Sophia had found deep in her garage. The paint had mostly chipped away, and small holes had dotted the exterior clearly visible but useless as a means to escape. The latches were nearly rusted over, but it was still sturdy enough to be functional.

Balanced on four wheels that squeaked with every shift it currently held months worth of used pads and tampons. All of it took weeks of collecting and donations to gather enough to fill the container. The smell alone was difficult to endure for long as Taylor immediately had realized.

She had begun to kick and scream but to no avail. Sophia easily overpowered her weak attempts at resistance, managing to easily cram Taylor face first into the filth.

Clasping the rusted hatches closed, Sophia rolled it out to the lockers where everyone had gathered around it.  
Emma had started it off with a solid kick against the trunks side. "Hey, Taylor you in there?"

The chest shook with several thuds in response that ended with a desperate cry.

"Aw is the little baby scared here let me help." Emma said before pushing the trunk towards Madison.

"Hey silly no need to cry you've got all of us." she said before continuing the game with the rest of the class.

Sophia's face was home to a wicked grin. Most people would assume that it was due to the unfolding 'prank. But they would be only partially correct. The weeks she had spent stealing used needles had finally paid off. She was concerned that all the other garbage would protect Taylor, she was happy to be proven wrong.  
Eventually, P.E. was over, but that didn't mean that they had to let her out. For the rest of the day, the girls had traded the chest between the three of them. Sophia was careful so that she would always be in proximity regardless of who had it. This was made easier by the fact that she shared classes with at least one of them for the day. They managed to convince the teachers that the chest was a type of art project.

None of the really cared just so long as they left the putrid smelling 'art piece' outside. Between classes each of them would torment Taylor in their own way. Madison would kick or stomp on the box whenever she could while Emma would whisper whatever insult came to mind. But Sophia would simply spin the chest in quick circles hopefully stabbing Taylor with dozens of dirty needles.

Occasionally passing classmates would stop by to join in on the fun so that Taylor was never alone. Eventually, Taylor had stopped screaming, whether it was due to exhaustion or defeat was something Sophia lacked the answer to. But it was nearing the end of the day and still it hasn't happened yet. Sophia wasn't consciously aware of what exactly it was that she was waiting for, but she'd know when it came.

It was the end of the school day, and it still hadn't happened yet. When the final bell had rung Sophia had taken control of the truck on wheels rolling it out to the back of the school near the student parking lot. Cameras littered the exterior of Winslow, but it was an open secret that only a few of them even occasionally worked.

Sophia undid the latches. For as quiet as she had been Taylor moved surprisingly fast. She nearly stood to her full height before Sophia could slam the lid over her head.

"You try that again Herbert and I promise you gonna regret it."

Sophia paused for a moment before slowly raising the lid. She lifted it only high enough to see at her handiwork while still leaning over Taylor. The smell from earlier had intensified, Taylor was soaked in sweat and blood, red clung to her clothes and hair. While the occasional needle stabbed into her.

"Why?" She asked in a raspy voice.

Sophia took a moment to stare into Taylor's bloodshot eyes before answering.

"Because I can, because I'm better than you. Looking at your sorry excuse for a life every day pisses me off. You're a filthy, weak and loveless thing. Your own parents don't even want you."  
That last remark had been the first thing Taylor had reacted to, recoiling as if the truth had stung.  
"You can't even deny it; your best friend since birth hates you, your mom had to abandon you, and your father can't even look you in the face without a drink first. And do you want to know why? It's because they all know the truth about you, the thing that's so clear even the whole school can see it. You're a worm, a bug, a nobody, and your entire life has been one drawn out pity party. But that's all over now you're done being a parasite, you're done dragging everyone down with you."

Taylor didn't offer any response or retort she only let the words wash over her. Sophia knew she'd hit her mark as she watched Taylor's shoulder tremble as she silently sobbed.

She needed to be pushed further.

"But I had a great idea. You see I know a few guys who want a good time, and I let them know where they can find you."

Taylor turned to Sophia with the look of fear in her eyes.

Sophia forced the lid closed before Taylor could try to escape again.

Sophia walked away from Taylor as she struggled to fight her way out. Sophia had to accept that her attempt with Taylor was a bust. The girl was spineless and now also probably diseased but she could still have some future use.

Regardless of the validity of that thought Sophia knew she couldn't just leave Taylor to die inside the trunk. There was no telling what issues could arise from that. The best thing to do was to save her as Shadow stalker, at least then Sophia could nip any incidents in the bud before they developed into something bigger. But for starters she needed her costume, Taylor could wait a couple of hours till sundown for a rescue.  
A few hours had passed when Shadow stalker stood over the ledge of Winslow overlooking the chest that held Taylor inside. Only now it was surrounded by three E88 skinheads. They were kicking and yelling at the chest. They were about to open the chest when Shadow stalker had decided to intervene.

Suddenly she was somewhere else, somewhere familiar. All of her perception was overtaken by a vision of three creatures. But 'creature' wasn't the right word for them it seemed too small for what they were.

The three of them were deeper than the reality around them, sinking and folding into multiple times and worlds. They didn't move as much as they shifted everything else around them. Sophia could sense a pattern but without seeing them in their entirety those details remained hidden.  
One of the entities had wrapped themselves around the other, the smallest among them. A mere meeting had transitioned to something violent. The smaller entity fractured sending shock waves along its whole body and parts of its attacker.

Sophia recalled seeing the same scene played years ago. It ended the same as it had then, with a scream that never seemed to reach a high enough pitch just escalating until it overwhelmed her.

The vision was over and the memories of it faded just as quickly as it arrived.

Sophia woke up on the edge of the roof. Peering back down at the chest below Shadow stalker could only witness as it and its contents were splattered around the surrounding area. A red blur moved from the wreckage, into one of the skinheads sending them flying into the nearby gate.

The remaining two skinheads drew their small knives but were hampered by the sudden arrows that appeared in their biceps. The creature had used the distraction to attack both of the boys with a wild punch. Shadow stalker transformed as she fell alongside the building.

She approached the crimson giantess slowly at first dropping her weapons and raising her hands. The woman wore the remains of a Taylor's uniform stretched and torn but were still familiar as belonging to the girl. She eventually had shrunk back into her regular frightened human form before she took two tentative steps away from Shadow stalker.

"Who are you?"

Sophia had to hold back her smile. Her plan had worked.

"It's okay I'm here to help."


	7. Bleed 2-1

The next thing I could feel was a soft cushion beneath me. It was a good feeling to offset the pain that wracked my body, it hurt to even breathe, much less move. It took a modicum of effort to open my eyes. I was met with the sight of Amara standing over me. She held an emptied iv bag with a worried expression on her face.

That changed when our eyes met.

"Good morning", she said with a relieved look, "just relax okay, you're in a safe place now." she said. I tried to heed her advice, if someone like Amara was with me then it was unlikely I'd be in any danger.

Then I heard the explosion. It had originated from a video game, but for the moment it took for me to recognize that id nearly had a heart attack.

"Regent would you please lower the volume?" Amara must've read my face.

"Ugh sure thing nurse not only did I die but now I get to lose my bet. Thanks red!"

'Red' was probably referring to me but what really caught my attention was his name.

'Regent' was a cape name if id ever heard one and it definitely wasn't one I could picture a hero using. The thought of heroes had triggered a recollection the previous details of my night, the fight with the ABB, Sophia's betrayal, all leading up to Armsmaster shooting me with his halberd. Those were the last thoughts I could immediately recall but they only left me wondering why I wasn't with the heroes. Based off my prior interaction with Armsmaster, if I were with them then I would be in a jail cell. Yet I had awoken on a stranger's couch.

It was difficult to move my head, but I could still make out my general surroundings. I was on a couch, one of two, near a coffee table. Wherever I was I doubted it was any type of home, the best comparison I could make would have to be a loft of some kind. Even with only a partial view of the place, I could get a sense of its size. It was easily bigger than my living room, not really having walls so much as borders for between 'rooms.' Nothing reached the ceiling which was little more than the roof and the remains of what looked to be the remains of metal girders. That feature combined with the space of the place gave me the sense that I was still in the Docks. If that were the case then at best the cape, or more probable capes, were at rogues or at worst straight up villains. Working through the pain, I tried to move, but the most I was able to do was shake my a bit head before the pain became too much.

"Hey you shouldn't try to move around just yet you're pretty hurt." Amara had said her voice doing little to put me at ease. It was difficult to move my head, but I could still make out my general surroundings.

She brushed her hand across my face moving away the strands of hair that were obscuring my vision. My hair was blonde instead of black I was Taylor again. I was regular Taylor Hebert a scrawny girl immobilized in a villain's lair in the one part of the city known for kidnappings.

Fuck.

Amara had gone back to managing my iv drip it was the first time I had taken notice the contents of the bag. I could almost sense the blood enter my body, but when I tried to connect with it I found I couldn't. I had begun to review my admittedly limited options for escape. I hadn't made much progress when something had jumped over the couch and into my chest. It was a large grey dog, I wasn't able to look at it for long before it began hungrily licking my face.

"Grue!" Amara shouted.

"Yeah I got it. Adlet, please call off Angelica."

I could hear a sharp whistle but its only affect was for the dog to stop licking me and look up.

"Adlet." Amara had said with an irate tone.

It wasn't until a pair of relatively small arms pulled at the large dogs neck, did it finally budge.

"You tasted good," was all the girl said as she passed me. Regent had given her a few bills before she reached her dog.

She was flanked by two other smaller dogs that simply watched as she wrestled with the larger one. I had used the word Dog where 'wolf' would've fit better. It was nearly taller than the girl who looked to be a bit on the short side. If I had to guess she was around twelve or thirteen years old. Her clothes must've hidden some muscle, as she was for the most part able to hold down her wolf until it settled down.

She was dressed in an over-sized white t-shirt that was stained with dirt and fur. Her pants weren't much better being made of thick denim but still having slight tears across her legs. Rounding out her costume was a pair of rugged combat boots and a cheap dog mask. She had managed to calm the wolf down after baking out several commands. In spite of her mask I could tell she was glowering at me.

"We waited and now she's awake, it's time for her to go." Spoke a tall man dressed in biking leathers as he walked around the couch.

His voice had a distorted quality to it, like it were muffled by something. But it was still enough for me to determine that he was in his late teens. That fact alone didn't worry me until I got a glimpse of his face. A glaring skull suspended in a pitch black cloud had a way of frightening people. Grue had moved to be next to Amara, giving me a clear view at the gun holstered at his waist. Adlet stood off to his left holding Angelica still while still maintaining her glare towards me.

Regent sat above me across the couch frame, twirling his scepter without much care. His scepter fell in line with the rest of his costume; it had a renaissance theme to it. His face was concealed by a stark white Venetian mask with a crown resting on his head. The mask left his mouth exposed but from where I was, I couldn't get a good read off that alone. His shirt was fluffy enough to obscure the lines of his body. But his slim frame in addition to, his overall demeanor had given me the impression of a person closer to my age than Grue's. He had crossed his legs audibly stretching the tight black leggings he wore. From the way he sat it wouldn't surprise me if he fell over. Overall he looked more like a fair reject than a super villain.

The thought had done nothing to put me at ease. Amara was the only familiar face i could turn towards but that was the moment the terror set in. The likelihood of 'Amara' even being her real name was decreasing every moment. If she were associated with villains, there was no way that she would give information like that to a hero. The likelihood of 'Amara' even being her real name was dwindling.

The girl had pulled a needle next to my syringe pump, she wasn't able to pump much of the drug before Grue had grabbed her by the wrist. Whatever it was already had me feeling better.

"Don't." Grue said in his distorted voice.

"Grue trust me everything will be fine-"

"No you don't get to say that; she's working with Shadow stalker. If she gets free, there's no telling what she'll do!"

The dogs were somewhat irritated by his tone, only the wolf began to growl.

"I don't understand why you're overreacting I'm telling you that's not the case anymore right 'red'."

It was reassuring that 'Amara' hadn't referred to me by my real name. But a part of me still was reluctant to trust that she acted in my best interest and not her own.

She pulled her arm back signalling for Grue to let go.

"Fine then let's vote on it, all for turning her in?"

Grue raised his hand immediately, Adlet quickly joined him.

"I vote we let her go." 'Amara' had looked down towards me in what I was sure was supposed to be a reassuring gesture.

"Sorry what, I wasn't paying attention." it was Regent who had spoken while still playing with his scepter.

He had adjusted his weight to continue speaking instead managed to drop the front end of his scepter on the face.

"Ow!" my throat was still sore but at least I could speak again.

"Stalker and I had a falling out bitch." I didn't intend for my words to come out the way they had but Regent didn't seem to take offense at the insult.

"Oh is that why she was knocked out when we arrived?" Regent had asked without a hint of remorse as he pulled his scepter away from my face. I caught a glimpse of the taser built in to the staff.

"Yeah".

"Nice," Regent raised his hand to vote."I say we let her join."He had said the last part while looking at Grue and Adlet with a sly grin.

Good, wait what? "What-"

"You know what forget it," Grue said while pointing at me,''Just get her out of here."

Amara had used the distraction to insert the rest of the drug into my tube, before removing it entirely. That must've been an antidote to Armsmaster tranqs, almost immediately I could feel myself become able to move. It felt like I hadn't done so for days, as sudden clarity replaced the discomfort. I could feel the bandages around my face neck and leg. They still ached but were reduced to the edge of my focus.

What currently held my attention were the clothes I was wearing. They were a pair of denim shorts and a red blouse that were both a few sizes smaller than the bulky clothes I was used to. Outside of my transformation or my regular clothes, I felt exposed. Before I could dwell on that thought I saw 'Amara' reappear from one of the rooms. She carried a pair of flip flops for me as well as a lunchbox. She moved to help me off the couch passing me a wipe to clean the drool off my face.

"Don't worry about the clothes you can keep them if you want." 'Amara' had said as if she could hear my thoughts.

I hoped my face didn't get too red at the implication. If it had, she didn't acknowledge as she interlocked our arms, leading us towards a set of stairs. The rest of the group had converged around the couch with Grue talking to Regent as he ignored the conversation for his video game. The young girl had been preoccupied with her dogs.

"Bye everyone!" the girl said as we descended.

It was Adlet who had responded with a, "Fuck you Li-" It was all I could make out before Grue began scolding her.

Walking had proved to be a difficult task. My body was apparently still recovering from the tranquilizers; my legs felt sluggish to respond and didn't feel strong enough to support my full weight. I tried to walk on my own regardless, but 'Amara' would always shift her weight to support me.

The second floor looked almost nothing like the first, where as their home gave hints to what is was before, the lower floor provided the full picture. Before the capes arrived, their building was one of the closed down factories. We walked through a maze of rusted remains conveyor belts and the spaces where heavy machinery was absent. I did my best not to touch anything, with the state everything was in it seemed like one wrong move would bring everything crashing down. We eventually made it outside, hopefully far enough from the other capes to avoid any eavesdropping. It was bright enough that I had to squint to let my eyes adjust. How long was I out for?

"You've been asleep for the last two days." The girl said.

That was starting to get creepy. I could feel the questions building in my mind as well as the realization of what she had said. If I had really been gone that long then it was possible that Dad had noticed, I didn't know how to categorize a 'yes' or 'no' to that question. Both had pros and cons I wasn't too thrilled about. But traveling down that train of thought would be a disservice in my current situation.

"Who are you?" I asked the girl.

"I told you my name-" She had spoken with a wide smile that vanished when I had cut her off.

"Don't lie to me, where are we going?!"

The girl paused, taking a moment to decide what she'd say.

"I'm taking you home Taylor."

"How do you even know where I live, why were you at my house, who are you?" I had rambled off those questions before I could stop myself.

I didn't mean to show my hand, but I was worried. What if I had been tracked down by an actual super villain? If they knew my name and where I lived what else did they know? I could feel myself panic at the thought, whatever the case my life was over.

"In the spirit of being fair I'll tell the truth, my real name is Lisa Wilborn and I'm a parahuman just like you."

That could explain how she figured out my identity, I knew there were some capes who could think their way to any solution. It didn't seem inconceivable for Lisa to be one of them.

"Are you a villain like your friends back at the factory?"

"That's a bit tricky to answer, but no, were not villains in the traditional sense."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Were only villains from the perspective of the PRT. I think we're pretty similar in that regard."

"I'm not a criminal."

"You assaulted two people in front of Armsmaster in addition to an entire warehouse worth of ABB."

"But they were actual criminals!"

"Now so are you," she looked apologetic before she continued,"Taylor you should know that you nearly killed Lung."

She paused for a response, but I couldn't give her one, did I really come that close to taking a life?

Lisa took my silence as permission to continue."Why do you think we haven't seen anyone this whole time?"  
I hadn't looked away from her long enough before then to notice, but empty the streets confirmed her statement. The regular drunks, crack whores, and gang-bangers that populated this part of the docks were few and far in between.

The buildings in the neighborhood were like an empty husk compared to what they once were. visible cracks were etched into every building, all the graffiti did little to hide the decay of the crumbling structures. Even in broad daylight they managed to cast enough shadows to conceal large swaths of the street. Within that darkness I could make out the occasional person skittering between buildings with darting eyes.

"When you took out Lung, you created a power vacuum. Now everyone is waiting to see what happens, even the protectorate has taken notice. It most likely going to be the Empire who sets it all off but really it's anyone's guess."

Even though my body was mostly back to normal, I felt numb. For every forward bit of progress I had made to be revealed as yet another step back was a frustrating process. First with Sophia and now Lung. The difference with Lung was that the consequences weren't just limited to me, but branched outwards to everyone else. It was like I couldn't do anything without their being some kind of fallout. My only hope was to uncover some answers that could maybe address some problems. I'd start with the one walking beside me.

"You still haven't answered my question," I said while looking her straight in the eye.

"You're right, sorry about that. My team and I aren't per the norm; we aren't vigilantes like you were, nor do we commit crimes to turn a profit like the rest of the villains. Were thieves who steal from the real criminals."

The 'were' hadn't gone unnoticed. I already had to face the consequences of trusting one outwardly helpful cape. It didn't feel right to blindly believe everything I was being told. The girl was pretty, but by no fault of her own, that trait has reminded me of Emma or one of the other girls that followed her. Contextualized through that lens rendered Lisa as a person who l left me feeling uneasy. It was the second time Lisa had made a comparison between myself and her group.

"Aren't you just stealing their blood money, how does that make you different from any of the other gangs stealing from each other?"

"What we do hurts them more than a couple of mooks taken off the street. Without a means to purchase weapons or drugs, even with parahumans, most groups would still be crippled. That's what we do."

"So let's say that I believe you, what's the deal with the rest of your team? Why were they so aggressive back there if you're just thieves?"

"Oh, you mean Grue and Adlet right?"

"Sure."I nodded.

"I can't really say to what extent but they've known each other since before we became a team. I can assure you that ive known them long enough to tell their decent people. Apparently Grue and Shadow stalker have a bit of a history, anytime they've met one of them ends up bloodied."

"So because I was her partner that resentment gets passed down to me."

It was Lisa's turn to nod."Exactly, they were just being a bit defensive back there, they're actually kind of mellow once you get to know them."

That could have explained why Sophia had been so insistent about avoiding other parahumans but it felt like a weak assumption. The Sophia I had encountered at Winslow wasn't the type to avoid conflict, she'd actively provoke it for the chance to re-establish her dominance. I wanted to confront her, to figure out the what, and the why of her betrayal. I needed to know how to react but without information I was stuck when it came to what I should do.

I had been lost in thought when we had arrived at the bus stop. I walked a few steps ahead of Lisa after she had stopped, when she spoke again she stood in one of the few rays of sunlight that peaked in between the buildings. I stood away from her in the shade.

"Taylor, I think you should have this," she said while holding the lunch box.

It was plastered with pictures of Eidolon, one of the first super-heroes. It depicted him floating mid-air while an aura of light emanated under his hooded cloak. At his feet was the epitaph 'never forget'.

"You want to give me a collectible?"

"Consider this a thank you for handling Lung for us."

"So you guys were who all those guns were for."

"Yeah we stole from the ABB not too long ago, but weren't expecting there to be such a negative reaction." She motioned the box towards me again."Taylor, you went through a lot when you fought Lung for now this is just a thanks. But if you like this could become a regular thing."

"What does that mean, a 'regular thing'?"

"What would you say to joining the Undersiders?" So that's what they called themselves, the close up view of Regent's weapon came to mind,."We could really use your muscle and with us you can really start to make a difference."

A smile was on her face for the last sentence. It had seemed hopeful, enough so that it almost made me wish I could believe her, but doing so soon after Sophia felt impossible. I was already in a hole. The docks was a powder keg because of me, my identity had been uncovered by multiple people, and I was now a criminal in the eyes of the law. Joining a team of villains only seemed to make the hole deeper. But I could use a bit of help to watch my back. If I wanted to keep being a hero I'd probably need it soon, things were looking dark. I could hear the bus home as it approached us, a means of escape if I wanted too.

"You don't have to decide right now but please consider it." she stepped closer to meet me under the shade."You still have my number right?"  
I nodded.

"Great, then please take the money as well as some time to think about it," she said as she pushed the Eidolon lunchbox into my arms.  
It was heavier than I thought it would've been.

"If you do decide to join us what's in their is only the bare minimum of what you'd make with us."

"I'll think about." were the last words between us before I boarded the bus home.


	8. Bleed 2-2

From the moment I had first boarded the bus I could sense people staring at me. First the driver and then the passengers. There weren't that many people on the bus, yet I could feel all of them glance in my direction. I had taken a seat in the empty back rows to avoid any unwanted attention or having people in my blind spot. I knew for sure that I was failing with the former, by now I had grown familiar with the feeling of stares from Winslow. I was never what most people would consider attractive, so my clothes could be dismissed as the reason. My next guess would be the lunchbox. If someone had seen me, pay the fare with a bill from the container, all that money might make them curious.

Most of the passengers looked like regular people just going about their day, but so had Lisa. If one of them turned out to be looking for trouble, I could manage, probably. I felt well enough that I could move around, but I didn't have enough blood to change for an extended period, I didn't want to risk being caught taking blood from fellow passengers. I could've remedied both of those problems by running home instead. I had considered the choice at every bus stop but regardless of whatever I chose I'd still dreaded the possibility of a confrontation with dad. The bus had made another stop allowing a mother and her young child to board. The mother carried the child in her arms the kid had pointed when they saw me.

"Mommy look she's a mummy!" the mother politely hushed her child before giving me a worried look.

I turned to my reflection to see what was obvious, I still had the bandages wrapped against my face as well as my leg. It was wrapped in several layers of gauze. The bandages were sprinkled with my dried blood. I ducked low in embarrassment as I unwrapped them, I tucked the remains away into one of my small pockets. Even after two days my injuries still felt tender, but still a far cry to their condition back at the warehouse. I had been so absorbed by my earlier conversation with Lisa that I hadn't discarded the bloody bandages. No matter the excuse it was reckless on my part. What if I had gone home and dad had seen them? For a drunk he had occasional bouts of focus. I was kidding myself, it would be like him to start caring when it would be detrimental to me.

Daniel Hebert was as much a drunk as he was a father, my night could go one of two ways depending on which he chose to be.

The drunk was someone I could work around. Dads focus became near non-existent he would stumble through dark rooms while chugging a beer and bumping into everything. The most that meant was that I'd need to cook dinner tonight. I recalled leaving a number for take-out, but he'd be too drunk to use it in that scenario. It was the best I could hope for. If things worked out that way then, at home any way, things would just blow over.

But I had to be realistic with myself, dad had always seemed to sober up at the worst of times. That meant during the week I skipped school after the chest incident or now that I had been out of the house for two days. I imagined that he ever called the Barnes in search of me. Even while, sober he could miss the obvious. In that state dad was still a problem, a manageable one, but a problem, nonetheless. I noticed that it was getting late as the sky transitioned from orange to black. By now if it were the second scenario then dad was home alone with a splitting hangover and exhaustion from not eating for two whole days. Despite it all he would still be pissed off. My best chance in the second scenario would be avoidance. Dad would want to ask me a million questions until he finally pieced together an acceptable answer.

Beyond my activities as a cape, I had little in the way of answers but plenty of things to hide. I looked down at the Eidolon lunchbox; it felt heavy in my lap. Both of my parents held a general level of disdain towards capes in general, growing up it had always seemed like a sore issue for the both of them. As a result, our home became a cape free zone they weren't allowed on the television, as a topic of discussion, and definitely not as memorabilia. I'd have to take care to hide the lunchbox. The fact that it was loaded with hundreds of dollars worth of dirty money, was only a secondary concern.

Since I first got my powers, I've played with the idea of letting dad know about what I could do. It wasn't everyday that someone in your family suddenly had powers. Even if the road to getting them wasn't pleasant maybe, he could still help me adjust to having and using them, maybe then he could see me as more than a stranger.

As hopeful as I had been for something even close to that it was only a fantasy. Dad had remained the same person he always was, an inconvenience for the worst of times.

He wasn't concerned with me or what I was going through, why would any of that change with powers? There was no way for things between us to just magically get better. What if disdain was really hatred all this time? I didn't want to find out that particular truth when it came to my dad. Some secrets had to stay that way, we didn't have a great relationship but at least we still had something.

The worried glances had ceased for the most part. I was grateful for the measure of privacy; it meant I was able to look inside the lunchbox without being concerned about prying eyes. It could have waited until I got home but I needed to open it right then. Thinking about dad had left me in a sour mood, I needed the distraction. Balancing it on my thighs, I opened the lunchbox for a second time.

The first time had been shortly before I got on the bus, it had nearly burst open once I undid the latches. I was careful to use my body to block anyone from seeing me with the money. Lisa's reward had been what I could only guess amounted to a couple thousand dollars. She had anticipated the bus fare and left me with a small enough bill to cover it. The rest of the cash had been in twenties, fifties, and the occasional hundred dollars.

I'd never even seen that much money in person and it was all mine. It was a struggle to keep the look of surprise off my face. Ideas immediately began to surface for what to do with it all.

I could finally buy a costume that was more than tights and an extra-large raincoat. Body armor was also a major concern, if I'd learned anything through my fight with Lung, some protection is better than none at all. I needed to prepare for the next time I went out as a cape, if there was even going to be a next time. Sophia had known my real name and now that I was an alleged criminal what was stopping her from revealing my secret to the heroes.

A wave of panic swelled in my chest for a moment. What if the PRT were waiting for me at my home? If they thought I was dangerous, what could stop them from locking me up in the birdcage? If that were the case then I would at least put up a fight, becoming a villain in the process. Possibilities ran through my head, each one worse than the last.

I took a deep breath. Lisa or whatever the girls' real name was, had been informative for the most part. She had seemed keen on my joining the Undersiders. Sending me away to be arrested by the PRT would be counterproductive if that was really her goal. Although the chances of that being the case were slim, they still felt real. How much should I really trust her? Sure she had rescued me back at the warehouse, but how did I know that wasn't a ploy of some kind? I had fallen for that trick once already, the pretend hero. The only difference was that now the stakes were even higher.

When this had all started I wanted to be a hero, how the hell did things spiral into me becoming a villain? A part of me felt that I should just go to the PRT and tell them everything. Maybe I could gain some leverage by offering information on the Undersiders. A major arrest would be just the thing to put me back into their good graces.

Though I didn't entertain the thought for long before dismissing it entirely. If Sophia had gotten the chance to tell her story, then I knew well enough from Winslow, she had twisted every detail to paint me as the villain. Punching her had probably corroborated her story. Additionally, even though it was in self-defense, from Armsmasters point of view, I had attempted to murder a defenseless victim. With those two things working against me, I'd doubt I would even be able to finish talking before they shipped me away to prison. The entire scenario left a bad taste in my mouth.  
I would be no better than Sophia if I betrayed someone for helping me. The realization of the alternative, should that plan actually succeed wasn't much better, becoming a ward and being forced to work with Sophia while under a short leash seemed downright hellish.

Lisa had mentioned giving me some time to think about her offer, but things were only going to get worse if she and the Undersiders turned out to be villains. Even though Lisa had given the money as a supposed 'gift' I wasn't unaware towards the ulterior motive behind it. Somehow the word 'bribe' and the image of Regents weapon in my face didn't quite mesh together. There was definitely more to the team than they were letting on. I wasn't sure if they were the type to get violent if 'no' wasn't an acceptable answer. I hadn't ever gotten that vibe off of Lisa, but that didn't mean much. Her true nature was a mystery I didn't know what she was hiding, but using the rest of her team as a point of reference didn't reassure me.

Grue and Adlet had concerned me the most. They seemed like the type that could seriously hurt someone without batting an eye. That type of resolve took a certain level of experience i wasn't sure I was comfortable with. Regent had irked me for different reasons. It had taken a while for the wraith to completely heal me, the bruise form Regent's Scepter was among the last things to be addressed.

Whatever the case I would need to protect myself moving forward. My first step in that direction would be to purchase a mask. It could've been something as simple as a bandana over the lower half of my face. It was one of my earlier ideas before I had decided my powers were enough to conceal my identity. I had assumed that my power was the type where I could cut loose.

My body was unrecognizable from regular Taylor's, it was strong and bulletproof, and most regular people would think twice before a fight. It was everything I could want from my power and yet solely relying on it had left me exposed. Over the last couple of days, my identity was known by half a dozen people if not more. Wendigo might've been invincible but as Taylor Hebert I was nothing special.

If my life was going to become a tangle of issues then I was determined to work my way free one step at a time.

-B-

By the time I arrived home, it was already nightfall. The lights were off within the residence, compared to the neighboring homes mine seemed dreary in comparison. The darkness was actually an improvement on its overall appearance, masking the chipped paint and rotted wood that was visible during the day. The burglar bars that framed the windows looked like solid pieces of metal. Growing up I realized that we didn't live in the best part of town but the bars always seemed unnecessary. The older I got the more convinced I was that the bars were more for isolation rather than protection.

Like the rest of my things my phone and keys were destroyed at the warehouse. It was dumb for me to have brought personal items into a firefight. Hopefully home wouldn't become a similar situation. I had tucked the lunchbox underneath my shirt better to be safe than sorry. I avoided the squeaky front steps altogether as I made my way towards the backdoor, where a spare key was hidden in the bushes. I had to rely on memory in the place of actual light. The bulb for the back light had burned out, but dad had never gotten around to fixing it.

The search for the spare looked like it would take me longer than I had first thought it would. I was crouched in front of one of the overgrown bushes; the key was supposed to be just beneath the leaves, but was nowhere to be found. I was stuck being crouched down, with one hand searching for the key, while the other held the lunchbox in place. My frustration grew with every scratch from the unkempt bushes. I had begun to make peace with sleeping on the porch for the night when the sound of something clanging against the metal bars behind me. When I turned to look, I was met with the silhouette of my father beating one of his empty beer cans against the door frame.

"Looking for something Taylor?"

His voice didn't betray an iota of the anger her was feeling in the moment. In fact it could've been mistaken for calm, but I knew my father better than that.

I stood up slowly, careful enough not to drop the lunchbox but not so fast as to hop up. Dad held out the key in his hand which was outstretched towards me through the thick bars. As I walked towards him my mind was ablaze with possible excuses for the last two days. But for every possible solution I considered I pictured their inherent flaws immediately. I had gotten close enough to my dad to grab the key and unlock the door. Dad had moved out of my way for me to enter the house.

"Go to the kitchen An- Taylor," dad said in a shaky breath. I shared my mother's first name as my middle one. It had been a while since the last time dad had made that mistake.

The only source of light in the living room came from the stove light in the kitchen. It was a dim light but bright enough for me to avoid the worst areas where even more cans had piled up. Dad had been busy for the last two days. I made it to the table while trying to make as little noise as possible. Dad was still standing in the doorway; he leaned on it while taking several deep breaths to steady himself. When he slammed the doors closed it was with enough force to shake the house. As he approached, dad had tripped on every can in his path, loudly crushing them in his wake.

Once he got close enough to be illuminated by the dim light I could practically see the intoxication all over him. It was visible in every move, even while he stood still, he lurched too far to his left or right. When he walked, his motions were jerky, abruptly shifting his left leg in one direction while throwing around his right arm for balance. It was like his limbs were controlled by unseen wires, his body like clothes for an invisible 'something' to wear. He flipped on the light switch before entering the room, noticeably recoiling from the light.

He was wearing the same clothes from two days ago, the only difference now was that they were wrinkled and stained with several drops of beer. The largest of them stretched from his chest down to his stomach. During episodes like this, where Dad had somehow summoned the temporary will to give a damn, could I see the years strain on him. He had a noticeable slouch, enough that despite his greater height he had to raise his head to gaze towards me. His eyes were sunken and lifeless, and combined with his wiry frame, dad seemed more like a skeleton than a real living person.

Dad took the seat directly in front of me. He placed his hands against his temples massaging them in an attempt to ease his apparent hangover.

He took another deep breath before he spoke,"Taylor Annette Hebert, I need you to tell me the truth, where have you been for the last two days?! "

"Dad you're not making sense, it's only been a couple of hours since I left." It wasn't the best lie I could've told but it was already too late, this would have to work.

"I spoke with the Barnes and they said they hadn't seen you in the last two days either," he paused to make eye contact,"where were you?"

"I was at the Boardwalk with some friends, today." I had put emphasis on 'today' while gesturing to my new clothes.

"It's ok if you want to lie about that now, but you're not leaving this house again before you tell me the truth." I tried to interrupt but he talked over me. "Who are these supposed 'friends' where did you meet them?"

"They're just some guys- people from school. I don't get it what's the big-"

Dad had slammed his fist hard into the table. The sudden act had startled me enough that I had dropped the Eidolon lunchbox out from under my shirt. It had slid towards dad.

"I know you don't get it, that's the whole point you're a child and anything could have happened and you'd be helpless. I can't do this-"  
Dad had looked to meet my eyes again when he saw my reaction to dropping the box of money. He ceased his rambling mid sentence and took a moment to unclench his fist. He pressed his fingers into his eyes to rub them while sharply exhaling.

It was too quiet in the room for me to drag the box without it being heard. I'd have to bid my time.

"I'm sorry Taylor. I shouldn't have done that."

I probably should've said something to the effect of 'no its ok' or some other combination of empty words, but I didn't. That had been the first apology dad had given me that had ever come close to addressing our problem. I wasn't just going to let that go.

With no response he carried on talking."Look kiddo I know how tough things have been on you lately, but I need you to believe that you can trust me."

"I know dad," I knew that promise would last for a few hours or whenever he found his next drink, whichever came first.

"Then where were you for two days, who is Amara?"

"How do you-"

"After the first day I searched for you in your room, but all I found was this on your bed." He pulled out the piece of paper that had Lisa's number scrawled on it.

He caught my hand bringing it down to the table cradling it in his own.

"Taylor, whatever you're going to say please just be honest with me. I care, I want to help."With the way he spoke, I could hear the hurt and exhaustion in his voice.

I felt something ugly fall in my gut and my veins felt cold. I'd survived a night full of gang bangers armed to the teeth, a literal dragon nearly beating me to death, and being pumped with enough drugs to put me into a mild coma. It had been necessary for all of that to happen for Dad to suddenly care.

"Taylor breathe,"dad had placed the paper on the table to cup my hand with both of his,"it's alright I'm here-"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I-"

"Dad, Emma's been bullying me for almost two years, for all that time I've hated every second of my life my friendships, school, everything." I was sure to make eye contact with that last detail."why is it after all this time that now you want to help?"

I felt the momentum that I had been building come to a halt. Dad was as shocked as I was. The information slip had been unintentional. Now I was left with a brand-new set of problems to address, as if I needed more. Dad scooted forward bringing himself to lean on the table.

"Taylor, I know things haven't been the best since your mother left us but-"

I heard dads foot kick the lunchbox and sending it sliding across the kitchen floor stopping once it hit the stove with a loud thud. We had both turned to look at it, dad had gone silent.

I knew what was next, dad would want to open the box and he'd find my money. There was no way I could explain that away. If this went on, he would question me until he figured out that I was a cape, I needed to stop him.

I abruptly stood up from my chair sending it flying back into the fridge behind me. That was enough to get my dad's focus back on me. The angry and confused expression on his face made it clear that he was about to bulldoze his way to the answers he wanted.

Despite everything, he was still my father lying to him didn't set well with me, but neither did being a prisoner in my own home. My only opportunity to escape was in those few moments.

"That isn't fair, mom's a bitch for what she did but you don't get to blame her for what's been going on. That's all on you."Dad had begun to retort but I didn't let him."Life's been hell for me ever since she's left but you were the one to leave me there, and for what. What did you find that was so important at the bottom of your bottle. While you were waiting for things to get better I took care of myself. If that means that I was out spending time with people who actually care about me then who cares how long I was gone for. It was better than what you were doing here waiting for someone who doesn't even want us. Hell even if she did come back do you think she'd want to stay, what for?

Dad was staring down into his lap. He didn't reply with any kind of retort or defense for his actions, he only sat their motionless and unresponsive. Somewhere in my rant the actual anger towards my father peaked through. I had forgotten about the lunchbox and instead focused on telling my dad the truth, though not the one he wanted.

As angry as my father had made me over the years, I never wanted to hurt him as badly as I just did. Without another word, I collected the box of money and ran upstairs. The ugly feeling from earlier had only intensified with my guilt.

Once I had made it to my room, I locked the door behind me. I tore off Lisa's clothes hard enough to rip the seams along the shoulder. I threw it all down on the bed. I repeated the process with the lunchbox, sending it to bounce off the bed and towards my window. The blinds had protected the curtains enough that they didn't break out right, though I could make out small pieces of glass that were now on the floor.

I dropped down to the floor leaning against the door; I let my limbs spread out in an attempt to release some physical tension.

I had no idea what the next step was. I probably was stuck in my room for the rest of the night, if not to avoid further questions, then it was too steer clear of dad. I didn't think I could face for awhile after tearing him down like I'd done. But I still had bigger things to worry about namely Sophia and the Undersiders. I had considered them both friends for the purpose of the previous conversation, but they remained as just another set of people I couldn't trust.

Compared to my dad, an ex-partner and a bunch of mysterious strangers, were barely worth noting as a concern on the list of people I couldn't trust. If only reality were so simple, I was cornered at every turn for the simple desire to be a force for good. The room had seemed to shrink just like it had back at the Undersiders base. I was experiencing a similar feeling that I had felt during my time trapped in the chest. My chest felt tight and I became hard to breathe.

At that moment I heard what sounded like a key entering my rooms lock. Dad was slow in pushing it in, with each of the tumblers moved slow enough for me to hear the springs strain. If dad wanted to continue his conversation I was too tired to care, I didn't budge off my spot on the floor. It didn't matter anyway, dad had apparently removed the key and with a heavy sigh he walked away from my door.

I had lost track of time when I had decided to move again. The rejuvenation I had felt earlier in the day had long since worn off and left me physically and mentally exhausted. I climbed into bed and tightly wrapped myself under the covers.

Whatever I had to deal with could wait until tomorrow, whatever I had to face I'd do so alone.


	9. Bleed 2-3

I awoke to the sound of cold air as it blew through my cracked window. The hole wasn't a big one but was still enough for the winter weather to lower the room temperature. It was still dark outside, it would be some time until the sunrise. I had long since grown accustomed to waking up early to get myself to school on time. Dad was supposed to take me to school, but it had been years since he could that safely.

My house was just close enough to Winslow that I couldn't ride the school bus, but it was still quite a distance to walk. I gathered the blanket around myself as I rolled out of bed. I was going to have to skip breakfast if I was going to keep to my schedule. According to the clock I had only fifteen minutes to leave the house.  
I dropped my blanket and clothes onto the bathroom floor. I hadn't showered in the two days, a fact that persisted unto something noticeable. The warmth of the shower spread down my body ,into my muscles and bones. For the first time since I had left the house I was at ease, the hot shower had addressed the tension resulting from the anxiety and cold air. Regardless of how it made me feel I was hesitant to use the shower for long.

If dad had heard the water in the pipes, he would have known that I was awake. The memories of what I had said to him were fresh in my mind. I knew that I resented him for a few things, and rightfully so, but tearing him down didn't leave me feeling as good as I thought it would've. The guilt from last night still hung over me. I couldn't avoid my dad forever, but I still dreaded when I'd inevitably had to speak with him again.

I finished up the shower taking a bit of extra time to brush and comb my tangled hair. Two minutes to brush my teeth and four to get dressed. Wearing my gym clothes underneath the regular ones wouldn't leave me sweating on my way to school. In this weather I didn't have to compromise between overheating or protecting my clothes from any tampering.

I grabbed one of my spare backpacks from underneath my bed. Having gone through several of them since the bullying first began, I made sure to request enough money from dad to purchase a few cheap replacements. Fortunately, he had been too hungover at the time to remember any of it. I had taken enough precautions that each of the backpacks were packed with at least enough supplies to get me through a single day.

I made my way downstairs but not before taking a moment to bury the Eidolon lunchbox deep into my closet. It wasn't much but would have to be enough to keep my dad from finding it before I came back home.

I made my way downstairs slowly, as to not announce myself before I could leave. A small lamp had been left on overnight. At first I assumed it was just another of dads careless mistakes, for the most part he was functional. He tended to miss the small stuff throughout the day a light here a bit of trash there. It was always something trivial, normally I would be the one to clean up behind him, the problem arose when those small things added up. Those were the times where I resented him the most, when our relationship became the inverse of what it should've been. At least I didn't have to memorize each step around the piles of trash like usual.

I'd reached the bottom of the stairs when I could see the rest of the room and by extension my fathers handiwork, apparently he had been busy for most of the night. Both the kitchen and living room floor leading to his office had been cleared of all trash. Not just the various beer containers but all the discarded papers and napkins that had built up over the years, they had all disappeared overnight. I must've slept heavy to not have heard even a hint of all the vacuuming and cleaning that took the old stench that I had grown accustomed to being in the air was absent.

It was nice to not have to step over clinking beer cans on my way out of the house.I noticed as I passed by that his office was empty and its door left open. It, unlike everything else remained just as cluttered as it had been yesterday.

The office was a cramped room just big enough to accommodate dad's computer and mini-fridge. All that left him was a tall office chair to sit in, it could recline to allow him to lay back and sleep. But due to the squat size of the room the most it could lean back was a few inches. It was where he liked to sleep and eat while he was didn't really go into his and mom's bedroom unless he needed a change of clothes, which wasn't often.

A small plastic bag had been left for me on the table next to the front door. It was a small bit of food dad had left for me with a small note attached to it. It read.'for my little owl' with the accompanied small doodle of the bird. The picture was meant to remind me of the nickname that mom had come up with when I was a little girl, it stirred up a few memories but none that I wanted to wallow in. It was obvious that dad was still hung up on mom, but I couldn't tell what he was trying to accomplish by trying to remind me of her.

Dad was making a real effort, the only question left was for how long he could maintain it. He had always been one for grand gestures. Moments or ultimatums that had to mean something due to their very nature. It had been the main reason why I had been so worried when I tried to sneak back in. But in a sense that was simultaneously good and bad he also had a tendency to backslide. Before he would make promises to cut back on the drinking or to communicate, only for him to be too drunk to even speak coherently a few days later. Today was probably just the first stage of his depressing cycle.

I took the bag with me on my way out the door, I could have waited to eat the food at Winslow but decided against doing so. I could never anticipate what issues or traps would be waiting for me there, so it was probably best to enjoy it while I still could.

Normally my powers could stave off the effects of hunger, I probably could've gone days without eating a proper meal and not feel any negative effects. That being said I still preferred food over an empty stomach. Besides, I didn't have much of the wraith left inside of me, there was no telling when I'd need to eat again.

Dad had packed me a bagel sandwich with bacon, eggs, and cheese. The food actually looked edible, the eggs had been cooked all the way and the bacon was crispy instead of burnt. It was an overall improvement on dads part. Normally he'd be too unfocused while he cooked managing to neglect one step of the recipe and ruining the whole meal. My breakfast was the first decent meal I had in a long while that I didn't have to cook for myself.

My schedule was set to allow me ample time to walk to school. It had occurred to me that I could've used some of Lisa's cash to pay for the fare for the public bus. But that would be ignoring my lack of smaller bills and the fact that I didn't want to get to Winslow any sooner than I needed to.

Before today it had been my routine to run to school, as a part of my new cardio regimen. At first it was painful to run. I was aware of a dozen things that felt off with how I moved, the pain doing little to help with that self-conscious feeling.

Every move I made was wrong somehow a step too far here, or to short their and there were always an immediate consequence following my actions. When I had first started running it had been a stumble or a near fall. Now my mistakes could end with me trapped in jail.

It was unlikely that the capes would arrive at my school to arrest me. I knew that it made the least logical sense, too many routes for me to escape, students in the crossfire. Most of all I couldn't imagine a situation where the heroes felt desperate enough to follow through with something that extreme.

Despite logical facts disproving most of the aforementioned scenarios as actually possibilities, I still had trouble relaxing. I could already I sense my body reacting to the inevitable stress. My shoulders and knees became tense making me quite aware that I was walking like a robot. I tried to force my body to relax but that only sent me in a cycle of rigid movements and forced composure.

As I finished the breakfast sandwich, I tried to focus on the positives.

I managed to recall a twinge of pride from having punched Sophia. When it came to the trio, or anyone at Winslow really, I held myself back from ever hurting them. I feared the consequences of lashing out even once, both externally and internally. I didn't want to go down the rabbit hole where attacking my bullies would become enjoyable. Yet a part of me still managed to relish the feeling from hurting Sophia.

If I had to put a name to the emotion the closest thing that would fit was probably relief. I broke one of my rules and felt good about it. Sophia probably had a mild concussion, not to mention the damage to her jaw. It was unlikely that she would be attending school today. A cautious part of me hoped that I never saw her again, but I already knew how unlikely that would be.

Sophia had been manipulating me from the very start. Along with the rest of the trio everyday, she pushed me closer towards my breaking point. When I was finally overwhelmed she was prepared to help in the aftermath. She had spent weeks being my 'friend' and mentor. I didn't know why she had done the things she did, only that she wasn't through just yet.

If the PRT wasn't going to interfere then, that would leave Sophia free to do what she pleased. It was easy to picture all of it as a new angle for the trio to harass me. Using my secret identity as a form of blackmail, they could hurt me even more both in and out Winslow. If the chest incident was any indication, then I didn't really know how far is too far for them.

My breathing had become shallow as I considered the possibilities of what the trio might've planned for me. I didn't know anything for sure, but worrying needlessly would only hinder me.

Life as a slave to my high school bullies was doubtful. Even if that were to happen, I didn't have much attaching me to my life as Taylor. Dad would take it hard, but he'd recover eventually.  
Of course with Sophia involved things would inevitably get violent, it was her go to tactic when it came to any problems.

If things continued to get worse I could always fight my way out. Though, if I did the heroes would definitely be close behind, a fight I was almost completely sure I'd lose. But that didn't make it was impossible. Lung had spent years fighting off both the heroes and villains who challenged him. I wouldn't have to go to that extreme to escape, but hell would freeze over before I lived the rest of my life under those bitches thumb.

A breeze of cool air brushed against my scalp, yanking me away from my train of thought. I pulled up my hood tucking my hair deep beneath it. Just in time as I had arrived at Winslow. Groups of students had formed into cliques around the main doors, completely unaware of anyone outside of their conversations. I pulled down the strings of my hoodie harder than I had done the first time.I was hoping that my hood would be enough to conceal my identity.

I couldn't spot any signs of PRT officers or heroes waiting nearby, I wasn't even sure what to look for if they were. It seemed like today would be a normal but that still meant I had to keep my guard up. A normal day at Winslow had never been easy.

Already I could pick out the faces of several girls who were vying for a spot in the trio. Social climbers, sycophants, they were all the same in the end. At least that had been the case when they were with Emma, Sophia, or Madison.

The groups stood close enough to obscure some of the people included within them. I stuffed my hands deep into my hoodies pouch. Other groups were congregated near the same area, skinheads, the jocks, and regular students. They were all people I'd want to avoid for the same reason.

If not for the small chance of one of the trio hiding among their clique of friends. I knew for a fact that I didn't really have friends, if my fears were confirmed then I'd be a target of everyone nearby. In that scenario I would've preferred dealing with the heroes instead of a bunch of teenagers. I moved horizontally from the main entrance doing my best not to make any eye contact lest I was recognized.

It wasn't too difficult, school was going to start soon and the crowds of incoming students were enough camouflage my movements. After one or two instances of bumping into other people I had made my way to the fences on the schools perimeter where the buses dropped off students. Most of them would be too focused on their phones or their friends to notice me. However, if one of them did spot me there was a tall fence between us that would give me enough time to escape to the schools back door.

It was the least utilized entry way for the entire school mostly due the stench of the area. Months ago it had been covered in several garbage bags worth of feminine hygiene products and dirty needles. The school had done the minimum of what was necessary to clean up the mess. Most of the debris had been removed but enough of it had remained to render the area nausea inducing. I held my breath until I managed to push open the old door. As far as I could tell the school hadn't done any sort of investigation into what happened there.

Shadow stalker had assured me that was a good thing when I first heard about. She managed to convince me that without an investigation no one would be able to connect my regular and cape identities. At the time I believed her but now I realized that Sophia was only interested in erasing the evidence. Not that she'd ever need to, she was the star athlete while I was just the school loser. No one at Winslow cared about what happened to me.

I estimated that I had enough time left to make my way to the gym and prepare for my first class. Coach Johnson had never seemed like the type of teacher who cared about education. Fortunately, that meant that he wasn't likely to give me any trouble for skipping half of the previous school day. That issue aside still had my usual reasons for hating his class.

Normally I could avoid my locker altogether, but those were only on the days I could be sure to avoid the trio. On days like these I needed to pass my locker to get to the gym before everyone else. The issue with my locker was its location in the center of the school.

It was a catch twenty-two in that it was close enough too most of my classes that I could theoretically use it throughout the day. But, it was also located in the main corridor where student traffic was the heaviest throughout the day. If there was going to be an encounter with the trio, my locker would be the likeliest place for it to occur. So far all the previous incidents there were indirect; stolen books, broken locks, and sticky acts of vandalism. It had been enough for me to dread spending anymore time there than utterly necessary.

The locker was only slightly smaller than I was, a small part of me always feared being crammed into it like the old bullying cliche.

I despised how much of my life was dictated by their actions. How I was forced to plan ahead and adjust those plans due to their whims. All of it just for a few minutes of peace each day. It hadn't felt so long ago that I could look forward to my time as a cape to make my regular day somewhat tolerable. That had been the case until Sophia had managed to take that from me as well. Now I was back to square one, merely surviving each day.

I kept my head down for the most part to avoid any eye contact. I was tall enough that at least while I moved with the crowd, people would move out of my way. It was one of the few benefits I reaped from my appearance. Without my long and curly hair, I could easily pass for a lanky boy of average height.

Moving through the hallway, it became apparent that a decent chunk of the students were missing. It took me a moment to realize that it was the majority of Asian students. They weren't completely absent, the ones currently at Winslow looked as if they were beaten or bruised. Their current condition must've been the doing of someone else. Courtesy of me none of the gangsters present during that night in the warehouse were left in any condition to escape. I felt the only bit of pride I could savor from that night. No matter what else happened, I had helped get criminals away from where they could hurt innocent people.

As I approached my locker, I could spot Emma almost immediately. She and two of her lackeys were vandalizing my locker with large swatches of red paint. So far they had managed to paint 'go home fa-'. Emma and one of her friends were yelling at the girl whose job was to apparently bring the paint. They didn't have enough to finish the insult.

It had always irked me how that had always been Emma's go to. Taking a secret that I had shared with her in confidence only for her to pervert it into a weapon against me. It wasn't often that Emma had fumbled her attempts at bullying me. I almost regretted when she had because she always had to do something else to recover. When she redoubled her efforts the rest of the trio followed suit as if not to fall behind, like it was just a game to them.

As much as I wanted to enjoy Emma's visible frustration, I knew it was important to keep moving. If she caught me staring at her, the situation here would definitely be worse than at the front of the school. I'd be surrounded on all sides, trapped with nowhere to go, forced to yet again endure as my former friend tore me down in front of everyone.

I picked up the pace, taking note of a stray strand of hair that laid on the tip of my nose. I moved to immediately tuck it back into my hood, but apparently I had been to slow.

"Taylor! Taylor, it's me Greg!"said a voice too energized this early in the morning.

It didn't take long for me to spot his blonde bowl bouncing with every step he took. Greg was a little shorter than I was. I could only catch an occasional glimpse of his blue eyes as his bowl cut bobbed up and down.

Fuck. Things had been going so well up till right now. I had no idea how Greg could identify me while I had been disguised, or why he felt the need to shout out my name from so far away.

Greg was making a beeline towards me waving and shouting to get my attention. He waded through the crowd more like a bewildered bee than a human. Greg took sharp turns and winding detours on his way towards me, drawing attention to himself as well as general annoyance.

I would've liked to just ignore him and keep moving. But some of the people around me had stopped moving to see the commotion that was Greg. Too many of them were in my way for me to simply push through them. Emma had followed Greg's gaze to set her eyes on me with a wicked grin.

I turned around to walk back towards Greg. He wasn't the type to understand that he was causing a scene, the best thing I could do would be to engage him.

"Hey, Greg look now-,"

I couldn't finish the sentence before he spoke over me, "Taylor! I knew that was you, how was your weekend!"  
Emma was making her way towards the both of us, the crowd parted to make way for her. I didn't have much time.

"Have you heard of this new game called Tenno?! It's a pretty cool game you should play it, it took me the whole weekend to get to rank three but it's totally worth-."

"That's great Greg, how about we talk somewhere that's a bit less crowded?"

I didn't wait for his answer. I forced my hand into his to drag him behind me as i pulled us away from the crowd.

As pushy as he could be Greg Verder was still a nice guy overall. It wouldn't have felt right to just leave him alone with Emma, especially when she had been so ready for a verbal lashing.

He continued to tell me about the video game he played over the weekend. As per usual when Greg was excited, he spoke quickly, as if he'd forget what he was saying before the words came out. The entire time he spoke he remained completely oblivious to the fact that I wasn't listening. I took the first turn out of the main hallway and was forced to take several more to get to the gym. Emma had never been the type to chase after me. That had been more in Sophia's ballpark, no with Emma I'd have to be worried about all the ammunition I'd just gave her.

The entire jog/run their I could spot people laughing at or pointing in my direction. My crappy reputation being as low as it was, had managed to slink even deeper into the toilet.  
I didn't stop running until we arrived near the gymnasium. I pulled us into one of the neglected locker rooms; nobody liked staying there for long making it the perfect place to hide. Most mornings the smell didn't bother me.

I guessed the same could be said for Greg as he kept talking,"- so I've heard about this thing called the Stalker, it hasn't shown up just yet but it's supposed to be pretty hard to-"

"Greg please stop talking and just look at me for a sec. Things haven't been so good for me lately, I'm exhausted and really just need some time to myself right now, ok?"

It was the first moment of silence I had from him since he spotted me in the some reason his cheeks were red, maybe it was a seasonal allergy or something. I dropped his hand just to be safe.

"Oh, it's not your Dad again is it. I heard about how he treats you, and I understand if you need some space. Wanna talk about it?"

Since first meeting Greg I'd gained the ability to understand almost every word that left his mouth. But I almost believed that I'd misheard him when he spoke about dad. Greg was a passing acquaintance, a 'friend' in the barest sense of the word. I never divulged any of my personal problems to him leaving the rumor mill as the only way he could've heard about dad. Fucking Emma. Greg continued speaking, unaware of his mistake but I didn't care to listen to his verbal diarrhea.

The door suddenly swung open, "Hey losers, you know you're in the girls bathroom right?"

It was Sophia Hess who spoke those words, fully healed and standing confidently in the door frame. Greg snapped his head back muttering an eligible excuse now that he had the wherewithal to be embarrassed. He turned back to me when he finally gave up. I didn't have anything to say to make him feel better, I had my own worries.

Things were starting to lean towards the worst-case scenario. A healing factor had never been part of Sophia's power set, that meant that she got outside help. The fact that she was able to attend Winslow indicated that the heroes had been convinced enough to let her go. A smile crept across her teeth, as if she knew what I was thinking.

I tore my eyes away from Sophia halting my pessimistic lines of thought long enough to deal with Greg.

"Greg, I know that you mean well but I need to speak with her alone right now," in that moment Greg reminded me of a hurt puppy,"look I promise that we'll catch up later but right now I need to speak with her alone."

I tried to infuse my last words with a bit of sincerity, but I wasn't sure how well I'd succeeded. From the look on his face, I might've let slip some of the worry I felt for myself instead.

"Ok, Taylor see you later," he said so quickly it sounded like he had spoken a single word instead of a whole sentence.

He hurriedly stumbled past Sophia leaving the two of us alone in the empty room. I reached for my power and felt my body grow in height and strength. Sophia only laughed in response. It wasn't the significant change I was accustomed to. At most I had gained a few pounds of muscle and a light pink shade instead of my regular dark crimson.

"What are you gonna do like that, scare me to death?"

"Close, I was thinking I could finish what I started at the warehouse."

Sophia walked from the doorway to stand right in front of me.

"Well then what's stopping you I'm right here aren't I?"She had asked that question while holding both of her arms outstretched away from her body.

I hesitated, the last time I had acted without concern for the consequences I'd inadvertently made an enemy out of the actual heroes. I let the wraith seep out of my body and gathered it between the palms of my hands. It wasn't much, but it was enough to convey that I wasn't going to be a punching bag.

Sophia dropped her arms laughing again as she did so.

"You should just give up already, you're not going to intimidate me."

"You saw what I did to Lung, what makes you think you're any different?"

"Well for starters we both know you aren't going to hurt me. Furthermore, I wouldn't brag about your fight with Lung. I saw how he threw you around like a rag doll, I was their remember?"

"I'm surprised that you can after the concussion."

Sophia's smile had wavered for a moment at that last comment.

"Sure you could, if Armsmaster hadn't taken me to get healed, after you escaped he and I had a decent chat. Long story short I'm an official ward now."

The wards were the junior team under the protectorate essentially sidekicks until they graduated to the big leagues. From everything I knew so far Sophia had been telling the truth. If she had been a hero than what did that mean for me, was my identity an open secret among the heroes? If that was the case then was Sophia supposed to be my final chance before they arrested me? If my fate lied in her hands then I knew for a fact that I was doomed.

I was beginning to seriously regret my parents ban concerning anything to do with capes. I had a vague grasp on the powers of Armsmaster and Miss Militia. But that left the rest of their rather large roster a mystery to me. They could've been waiting just outside the school for all I knew. I barely had enough of the wraith left to hold in the palm of my hand. I wasn't confident that I could take care of even a single hero, never mind a whole team of them.

The entire time I had spent contemplating the implications of what Sophia said, she had stood still taking clear satisfaction as the realization dawned upon me.

"You should probably know that Lung died later that night."

"Liar." Lisa had no reason to deceive me about Lungs survival, not that Sophia needed to know that fact.

"Ok you got me their he did survive but you should know that you're a villain now," she said with a shrug.

"According to you, what's stopping me from going down their myself and tell them who you really are?"

"Go ahead and try it to them you're an unstable lunatic, thanks for helping me prove that by the way."

The Sophia I'd known was a bully, pure and simple, for her to have gone through so much trouble their had to be more to it. I needed to know the answer to understand which of the worst-case scenarios I was dealing with.

"What the point for any of this, why me?"

The smile fell away from Sophia's face and was replaced by a snarl.

"You think I need an excuse to mess with you of all people?Really Taylor you're flattering yourself if you think you're even a consideration when it comes to me, beyond how i use my right. Even with your powers, honestly the only impressive thing about you, you're still weak. I'm the type of person who can stand up to the world and forced it to make sense. When it throws me for a loop, I survive and adapt. That's where were different. I don't need a reason to exercise my strength over something pathetic like you. It's not even you fault really, just the nature of things. Nothing is ever going to change that not even superpowers. I'm the winner I've always been while you'll the loser all the same."

The remains of the wraith were growing agitated in my hands; I was forced to clench them into fists to prevent them from swarming her. Sophia had taken notice and stepped deeper into my personal space. I had labored not to automatically move back in response. I was done taking her abuse.

She pulled both of my hands into my own before she spoke again.

"This is how things are going to be from now on. Nothing has changed so you should just forget about your powers. The Protectorate is searching the entire city to hunt you down. Step out of line, attack me or my friends and you'll have a one way ticket to the birdcage."She paused to watch as her words sank in. "I own you Taylor."

The wraith had been in physical contact with Sophia from the moment she had grabbed my hands. It took all my willpower to keep it from devouring every drop of blood in her body. Standing so close to my face had made it impossible to hide the signs of strain from her. Sophia took visible pleasure at my discomfort. I finally had to pull the wraith back into my body to end the struggle.

"Good to see you're not stupid."

Sophia had turned as if to walk away but she kept on of her hands wrapped around my wrist.

"Oh and before I forget."Sophia had spun back around to face me pulling me forward in the process. Before I could react she had already connected a swift punch to my open jaw. I went stiff as my body fell to the ground.

I wasn't able to prevent my head from bouncing off the floor. When I tried getting back up my body wouldn't respond. For a second time in recent memory the world had faded into a fuzzy haze.

AN* Looks like I wont be able to complete NaNoWriMo (despite 'cheating'). I still intend to write up to 50k and a few thousand more to make up for failing. Please enjoy the story so far and thanks for reading.


	10. Bleed 2-4

I awoke with a throbbing headache where my head had impacted against the grimy floor. As, I helped myself to my feet, the rest of the girls had already begun filing into the room. I must've been unconscious for the last twenty or so minutes for classes to have begun.

I felt dizzy and a touch light-headed as I pushed past the incoming crowd. Some of them had seen me lying on the floor and were hurling insults some tired insult. Normally I could've focused well enough to be bothered by their words, currently I was too out of it to be properly annoyed. I felt the sort of hunger that had nothing to do with what I normally consider food. The last morsels of my power had been used up to heal my face from Sophia's attack. For the time being, until either the wraith regenerated or I consumed some blood, I would be just as human as I had been a few months ago. It wasn't surprising, how little had changed since then.

I wanted to take a moment to clean some of the dirt from out of my hair but I needed to get inside the gym first. I knew from podding the area that I didn't have a bruise on my face. That would leave me with no viable excuse for why I'd be late to class if I chose to change somewhere else. It was one of the few things that irked me about my power. I couldn't control it to the extent of deciding which injuries to prioritize or just outright ignore.

I wasn't a masochist but the complete erasure of the physical evidence did little to help me solve the real problem. Even if the teachers didn't believe me a well documented paper trail would've been helpful if the police got involved. Though in my new situation the police would've been anything but ideal.

Ever since being locked inside the chest I was hesitant to be in the girls locker room longer than necessary, especially when it was occupied by my peers. It would've been too easy for them to pull another 'prank' that I couldn't prove had actually happened.

I made my way towards the gymnasium and found that it was fortunately still empty. Regardless, I was still wary of any possible visitors so as usual I chose to undress beneath the bleachers. They were similar to the rest of the room in that they were old enough to creak from years of rust and disrepair. No one really believed that they would fall anytime soon but I did get dressed at the edge of the structure just to be safe.

The lights were varying levels of brightness with some areas fully lit contrasting the dim or even blacked out areas. The entire area was spacious enough to accommodate two basketball courts but only one of them was actually usable.

That court had been reserved for the use of the basketballs teams practice and games. It was simple in that the court wasn't littered with cracks and splinters. The various jocks and athletes didn't have to worry about avoiding any floorboards that would give under their weight.

Like the rest of the school if it weren't strictly sports related, the funding for it was all but nonexistent.

The rest of the room that had been reserved for regular classes were usable in the thinnest sense of the word. With 'usable' being quite the stretch to describe a court with cracked and splintered floorboards. The only reason we even had class indoors all year was because of Coach Johnson's preference for the air conditioning.

Underneath the bleachers I had to push around the various bits of paper and trash to have a spot to change. With my backpack being as thin as it was I had more than enough space to stuff my clothes. I was grateful for the unusual ease, but it also reminded me of my more mundane problems, I was going to have to ask for new textbooks for every class. Even while disregarding the poor condition of the majority of the textbooks, I'd still need them if I was going to make it through the rest of the year. That made the confrontations most of my teachers an inevitability. Yet compared to my current situation with Sophia dealing with a few upset teachers seemed mundane in contrast.

Thinking about it all just made my head throb a bit harder. My goal had been to keep my cape and civilian lives separate but I didn't know if that was even possible anymore. Even without Sophia, I felt like they had merged into a problem I couldn't even begin to solve. At home dad was going to keep asking his questions until he got the answers he wanted it was possible for me to simply lie but I didn't trust myself to not mess up somewhere along the way. At school Emma was sure to remain a problem, but I also had to be extra cautious around Sophia. She had taken the one thing that had kept me going for all those months of torment that was my everyday life. One instance of rebellion was all it would take for her to contact the heroes. I was trapped, and I didn't want to think about how things would be different now that she'd start blackmailing me.

I replayed every word of Sophia's threat in my head, straining myself to remember her every word up until her revenge for the warehouse. By the time I had finished the throbbing of my headache had intensified, almost as if to ground me in the reality of my situation. For a moment I felt like curling up under the bleachers and just giving up. The most that I had accomplished with my powers had gotten me into a worse position than from since before I got them.

Fuck that.

There had to be a way out from under Sophia's thumb in addition to my dad and the heroes.  
I couldn't accept, after everything that had happened that nothing had changed. Sophia had made it clear that she was going to be terrible, but that was nothing new. I wouldn't like it, but I could manage.

Those were the thoughts that ran through my head as I hid my bag underneath a pile of papers and discarded food wrappers. I made my way out from under the bleachers, just in time for the gym doors to open. The class filled the room like a single mob, I reminded myself of the months I'd managed to endure my classes at Winslow.

I waited off to the side near one of the various black areas of the room. I took the time to scan the groups for a place where I could blend in well enough to be noticed for attendance, but not enough to attract negative attention.

Coach Johnson made his way through the students, I could tell he was coming even before I could see the man by how the students moved to be outside his path. The squat man took quick steps towards his destination. He was top heavy but not in the sense that he was fat. His upper body and biceps were muscular if not a bit barrel shaped. The same couldn't be said for his legs, however. His nylon pants failed to disguise how thin his legs were, the motion of his walking only served to highlight what he had meant to hide.

He held a clipboard in his hands with a whistle around his neck. I took his presence at the front of the mob as a que for me to find where I wouldn't be noticed by the wrong people. That had been a mistake; I'd barely even moved before I was spotted.

"Herbert, get from over there and fall in!"

I could feel the eyes as they fell on me, following my trek from the shadows to a spot among them. The rest of the students did not wait for the coach to address them. In the next several seconds, the class had been organised into two columns for boys and girls. Due to the large class size, the groups were comparable to each other. Yet, despite that being the case I still stood out like a sore thumb. Even while I stood towards the back of the group, I could hear people muttering while some of them turned back to peek at me. One such person like that had been a redhead.

My stomach dropped with despair.

I knew that I would have to deal with Emma eventually but it still felt like it was too soon. I wasn't ready to deal with whatever she threw back into my face, not today. I'd begun running every possible thing she could do to me as if doing so would somehow protect me. Even considering a few dozen scenarios it wasn't enough to prepare for what she might do. Emma had our entire childhood to draw on, on top of whatever else she might've known.

A small part of me began to reconsider my approach to Emma, why endure her antics any longer when I knew better? Sophia couldn't always be by her side.

Coach Johnson had just begun roll call it would be a little while before he would reach my name.  
However, I had to cut off that line of thought quickly some of the people near me were giving me weird looks. I didn't know what type of face I had been making but I took the time to stop it.

Thoughts of revenge against Emma, in particular, were the hardest to resist. I could easily find myself falling into that mental loop several times a day if I wasn't careful. It was easy to imagine the sensation of my human fist plunging towards her face.

The attack wouldn't rocket her off the ground. If I were Wendigo she might've died if I punched her at full force, but as Taylor it would've been enough to loosen a few teeth. If it had all played out that way then things would finally change… for the worse.  
Sophia had made the conditions of her blackmail clear, self-defense justified or not had been removed from the table. Even without Sophia's interference attacking Emma had never felt like a good idea for long. I hated the person that wore my best friends face, the person who id once considered being with for the rest of my life.

As much as I truly hated who she became, I still couldn't bring myself to hurt her. It would've been easy to keep going, to reach for my powers and make a mistake that I could never take back. Then I'd really be a monster, more so than any of the trio.

Perhaps my only available option would be to leave Winslow altogether. The real purpose of Sophia's threat could have been to force me away from Winslow under threat of facing the heroes.

"Herbert!" the coach bellowed, snapping me back into reality.

"Present!" I responded a little too loudly.

The coach yelled through the rest of the roll call per usual. It still baffled me how after so much of the year had already passed that the coach still couldn't say my name correctly, even more so due to him reading it off a list daily. It couldn't be anything but intentional. It was early in the day and I was already growing tired of it.

The coach got everyone's attention with the blow of his neon green whistle,"Okay everyone you know the drill, lap time!"

Coach Johnson had repeated those same words for most of the year, the only time he'd deviated from having us run laps had been for the occasional test. He never bothered to tell the class or help us prepare in advance. Most of the class had to walk or run at least four laps by the end of the period, if they finished before then the rest of the class was left up to them. I, on the other hand, didn't have that option.

Emma approached the coach with a winning smile; she was pretty and she knew it. Like every other day she talked her way out of exercise with one excuse or the other. She followed by a group of friends made their way to the benches where they would sit and chat for an hour. Inevitably more people would flock towards her, if I so much as neared her or her sycophants then trouble was bound to happen.

Not that my options were much better on the court either. Unlike an actual track, the basketball courts didn't offer a wide space for running. For the most part people ran in narrow lines outside the perimeter. The coach kept a close watch to make sure no one stepped too far into the actual court. It was a rule he sporadically enforced particularly only with certain students in mind.

Sophia wasn't included with that group. She was special in the sense of being the school track star. She'd spend the entire hour repeatedly lapping the rest of the class all with ease. I had to keep track of where she was constantly if I hoped to avoid her. I caught a glimpse of her stretching for her run not that far from me. I was alone in the crowd, to distant from anyone to be just another face in the crowd.

Nonetheless, Sophia carried on as if she couldn't see me. On a regular day that would've been a welcomed change, but things were different now. Her present inaction only served as a reminder of the locker room, she'd done all the damage she needed to.

I did a few stretches of my own, the headache that had somewhat subsided over time had begun to get irritated by the new activity. I turned back to Sophia only to discover that I had lost track of her. I didn't bother to search for her, frantically turning my head to scan the room would have brought on some unwanted attention. I took the absence of both my tormentors with cautious relief; I felt that something was coming. Regrettably, I'd grown familiar with the sensation, like waiting for a taut rubber band to finally snap, releasing all its built up pressure.

I filed into the line, taking my usual spot at the back, the coach gave his signal for us to start.  
I wouldn't go so far as to compare what I was experiencing to a snapped rubber band. All I needed was to vent a little.

At the coach's signal, I picked up a moderate pace, not my fastest but enough that I was squarely in the middle pack before the first turn.

I knew that my powers were at least to some degree tied to my emotions. The memory of splattering the walls of the girls bathroom with my blood was still uncomfortably fresh. All things considered that incident had been an outlier from the norm, yet it was still something I felt I should be watchful of in the future.

In all honesty I was just trying to put a positive spin on my current situation. There wasn't any danger of me letting the wraith out like before. I picked up the pace bringing myself closer to the front of the pack. I took a moment to glance at my surroundings, where I was in the group had more boys than girls, I got a few odd looks from my but nothing more, they were going too fast to speak. That was fine by me, I'd skip my morning run and had missed the time I normally had to myself.

Another positive I could derive from my temporary lack of powers was a confirmation of the weeks of hard work I had put into my routine. I'd never been sure about whether or not the enhancement side of my powers were at play even while I wasn't transformed. It was a small victory for a day that had already been so full of crap.

I was nearing the front of the crowd; my head ached with the thud of every step but I didn't let it stop me. In a sprint I was breaking away from the main crowd, and nearing my physical limit. It was shortly before finishing the first lap that I grew self-conscious.  
I would need to slow down eventually if not for the sake of my stamina then to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.

Normally I preferred to stick to the back of the herd, but today was an outlier, a growing trend apparently. If anyone was paying attention then they might have assumed that something had happened.

For a second time I looked around my surroundings, now with the creeping feeling of eyes on my back. I spotted Emma surrounded by her friends oblivious to the world around her. The only other person of note how caught my attention was Coach Johnson, as I completed the lap we made direct eye contact. I didn't know what the significance of that had been but it had been enough to snap me out of my runners high.

It wasn't long after that I had felt a hard slap press into the back of my head. It along with me slowing down had revived the subdued headache back to full strength. Sophia sped past me in a huff, the teacher didn't even budge, even with a clear example of Sophia's bullying playing out right before him where I knew he could see it, nothing.

I wasn't even all that shocked beyond the slap itself, by now I knew the cycle well enough to at least adapt a palatable role in it. There wasn't any point to arguing with the teacher, not with this one or any of them for that matter. The easiest thing for me to do was to fall back into the herd of students. Far enough back for me to nurse my headache at a comfortable speed while also hiding amongst the other bodies.

For the remainder of the mandatory laps, I managed to do just that. Using a spot in the middle of the slow herd my headache subsided back into a dull throb while Sophia had been unable, or more likely, disinterested in harming me for the time being.

Eventually, the courts were mostly desolate with the majority of students deciding to pick up conversations at or around the bleachers. The only people left were those who ran just for the sake of exercise, or who were embroiled in idle chit-chat; and finally the few that still needed to finish the mandatory laps. That last group had included one Greg Veder, sweat had spread throughout his entire gym uniform, enough so that it dripped constantly down his chin. His mouth was gaping open as he sucked in air. His motions looked more like a shuffle than a run as if he would topple over with the slightest misstep.

I felt a twinge of pity for him in that moment. It was clear that he was struggling, but he refused to give up and just walk the rest of the way.

The inevitable had happened when Greg tripped on one of the splintered planks, he was clumsy and didn't fall on his hands but flat on the face. His accident had played out in full view of a group of Empire skinheads, they converged around him immediately.

The headache was still irritating me, but I was still strong enough to at least do something to help. What exactly that would be I had no idea, even with my powers I couldn't use them so blatantly out in public unless I wanted out myself. That only left the options available to regular Taylor, none of which seemed particularly useful in the face of six or so probable gangsters. Regardless, I kept running towards them settling on deciding what my actions would be once I got there.

To say that I was surprised when the neo-Nazis's actually helped Greg to his feet would've been an understatement. One of them had produced a bottle of water for Greg while another had begun asking him questions to check for a concussion.

I tried to play off my charge towards Greg into an impromptu sprint past him and his group of concerned helpers. I wasn't sure how successful I had been doing that. But I did still manage to agitate the migraine once again.

As oddly as it had felt, I left Greg alone to be with his racist saviors. It felt so stupid, and so much like the rest of Winslow, that the professed Nazis would be the only ones offering help when it was necessary.

I slowed the sprint down to a mild run.

I was glad that Greg was getting the help he needed, but the hypocrisy of the situation was like a slap to the face. For nearly two years they all watched or even participated in the bullying that I had to endure every day.

I was angry enough that I hadn't been paying attention to what was right in front of me. If I had been, I would've been able to avoid the outstretched foot that had been aimed to trip me.  
I was still in the neglected half of the gymnasium, while I had enough wherewithal to use my hands to break my fall I still got a few splinters jammed inside my palms. I bit my tongue to avoid crying out in pain, managing to hiss instead. I could hear people talking; it was enough for me to tell that I was surrounded.

"Aw are you ok, tell me where it hurts?" asked Emma with mock innocence as she stood over me.


	11. Bleed 2-5

It was all my fault. I was still on the floor unable to pick myself up with all the people surrounding me. It was a crowd made up of both genders, mostly girls but definitely more boys than was usual. It was a struggle to keep my composure as more people came to join the group to help conceal and trap me. Several pairs of shoes were at least partially resting on my wrist, elbows, and hair just hard enough to keep me pinned down. I wanted to fight back, thrash around in the hopes of creating an opportunity for escape but it was pointless.

I had been tripped in the damaged portion of the gymnasium. Half of the faces around me were obscured by the darkness brought on by the broken light bulbs. To make things worse, I could feel the pieces of broken wood begin to press into my back moving around would only make things worse.

I knew that I would have to pay for my attack on Emma eventually. Despite Sophia having been their to protect her, Emma wasn't the type of person to forget something like that. Maybe this would be the extent of her revenge; an example of how much worse things could get. I knew I could still put up a fight, but what would be the point? All things considered, this wasn't much different from what I normally had to endure if not a bit more physical.

They were close enough that I couldn't even twist or squirm, a couple of them even stepped on me to prevent escape. To the side of me I could make out Emma's face, still twisted into the mock expression of concern even while she avoided my gaze.

I frantically searched the group, of the ones I could see good enough most of them were copying Emma. With a few clueless exceptions, the group had managed to ignore me as they cornered me into an even tighter space.

At first I tried to speak up, to say something that would at least give some pause to one of my tormentors to make them reconsider what they were doing. But that had quickly proven to be pointless as they kept drowning out my words in conversations that overlapped and muddled into an incoherent drone. The easiest thing I could do would be to just wait until they all got it out of their system at least that way I didn't hurt myself anymore in the process.

Once I had stopped resisting the conversations became recognizable as insults disguised as gossip.

"Ugh look how skinny she is, I bet she's anemic." said one of the girls I couldn't fully see.  
She had meant to call me anorexic not that the distinction mattered among the dozens of insults directed at me.

"Dude look at her ugly face no wonder she's such a whore."

"Definitely man, you couldn't even pay me to touch her."

The insult had come from one of the more attractive boys in my grade. Maybe that's why I felt a bit more of a sting at that comment.

The group had continued to press into me, they were close enough to me now that they could nearly crush me. The words weren't anything I haven't heard before, even if they had now been spoken by some new faces. Emma had always favored mind games as her tactic of choice. Her flock, the insults, and even her means of keeping me pinned were all meant to send a clear message.

That I was a worm, a weak vile thing that she could crush at any moment. This whole ordeal was her way of reminding me of that. I could struggle, writhe, scream but all that would do was give Emma more of the entertainment she wanted.

I tried to make myself small in an attempt to shield at least some of my body. It was difficult with the weight of several people pressing down on various limbs. The most I was able to accomplish was an awkward pose that left one of my arms in a strange position as well as put considerable strain on my hair.

I squirmed like that for a few moments until someone spoke up.

"Hey guys stop for a second she doesn't look so good." I could recognize that the voice belonged to Julia.

"Yeah I think you're right Jul," said Emma ", ya know your dad called my house the other day. If your parents- sorry, father is hitting you know I've always got a shoulder to cry on."  
The entire time she spoke Emma maintained the face I'd expect to see on a close friend, not the person who took her place. The fake sincerity had been puzzling to me, the last several minutes had been a non-stop barrage of insults Emma's last comment hadn't lined up at all and yet her expression did not falter.

The memory washed over me like a wave.

It was about a year before mom had left our lives for good. Mom had found an Assault T-shirt hidden in my room a few days earlier per the cape ban in our house I was grounded for the week. The shirt was a gift from Emma for my thirteenth birthday. I didn't take it well when Mom had confiscated it.

For most of my life, I had been content to hide my interest in capes around my parents. It wasn't much of a loss when I split half of my time between our houses. But that had been fine when I was a child. The fact of the matter was that I genuinely liked capes, despite my parents feelings towards them. Eventually, they'd have to get used to that fact, so why not start now?

I had decided to search for my shirt early in the morning, not so early that my parents would still be in bed just enough that they wouldn't expect me to be awake as well.

It was easy to be awake so early that morning considering that I hadn't slept the night before. The local PRT were holding some kind of event with the city Protectorate where some of the heroes would be giving out autographs. In addition to the shirt, Emma had gotten a pair of tickets for us to attend the event later that day. I needed my shirt with me for the heroes to autograph it thus I had to search my parents room to find it.

Fortunately, I had timed my search just right; I overheard my parents getting ready in the bathroom giving me plenty of time to find what was mine. I spent the previous week confined to my house going through every room until I narrowed down the shirts location to my parents room.

I overestimated my ability to quickly fish around the room for my shirt. By the time I had found it in my moms dresser, she had caught me in the middle of her room with the shirt in my hands. She didn't say a word; she didn't need to i could tell from her face and posture that this was bad.  
At first I tried to reason with her but that had quickly proved pointless and soon devolved into a verbal argument.

At some point Mom tried to grab for the shirt, I managed to avoid her at first by climbing over the bed.  
I tried to make my way out of the door, but mom was able to tackle me before I made it through. I couldn't remember all of what she had said as she had begun to scream in a fury. She tore the shirt out of my hands and ripped in two as she pressed her weight down on top of me.

She was still screaming when dad had struggled to pry her off of me. I had remained on the floor still in shock at what had just happened. I'd never seen mom so angry before. Up until that morning she had always been gentle but firm with me, but in that moment I felt none of the warmth I'd come to expect from Annette.

I eventually recovered while Dad still struggled to calm mom down. I made my way to the downstairs phone where I called Emma to pick me up. I didn't get to say much before Emma had assured me that she'd be their shortly despite the early hour.

I could hear my parents arguing when I heard Emma's sister beep her car horn. We were halfway to Emma's house when the initial shock wore off the tears were slow at first, but by the time we had arrived to the Barnes I had been bawling into Emma's embrace for several minutes.

When I had finally returned home both of my parents apologized for what had happened and then carried on like everything was normal.

From then on things became tense between the three of us, the familial bond we had was damaged. The strain grew worse over time until the day my mom gave up all together.  
Emma knew that she had struck a nerve. It was evident from the cruel grin that she reveled in that fact.

I could sense the cold anger setting into me, at my fingertips I could sense what was left of the wraith churning in my blood as if it could beg for release. How fucking dare she.

I forgot about anyone else around me. I ignored their words, their reactions they didn't matter. My entire focus narrowed on Emma the second person to hurt me in the same way Annette had. A very real part of me wanted to make my former friend suffer a fraction of the pain she had just put me through. I had to actively force the wraith to stay inside of me. If it got out Emma would be the first person to suffer but definitely not the last.

I clenched my fist as I had begun to push and pull against the ensemble of people pinning me to the ground. I had a modicum of success before I felt a hard stomp on my abdomen. Some of the people had backed away from me when I had begun to violently jerk and push from under them.

But their backing off had given some the opportunity to step closer. One such person had been Sophia who was currently twisting her shoe into my gut. Her face lacked any of the visible emotion I'd come to expect from Sophia, instead she held a cold stare as she looked down on me. I might've had enough strength to force her off of me but then what? We both knew that I would still be under her heel.

I was frustrated and pissed off my emotions were running high that i needed a release of some kind. Goddammit, I could feel one tear fall down my cheek followed by several more. I tried wiping them away to hide them from everyone but they were to close for me to be successful.  
"Oh my god, you actually made her cry nice one Soph!" Julia said.

The rest of the mob resumed their place around me in the claustrophobic circle.

"Now be nice Jul you know the little crybaby can't help herself." Emma jeered.

Laughter echoed within the ring of people, several of them were making sad faces or wiping away their own imaginary tears even after I had managed to get them to stop for the most part.

"Does anyone have some tissues for her to use?" Emma asked.

The handsome boy from earlier piped up with a,"sure do," before he dropped several armfuls of trash over me.

The laughter and jokes at my expense continued until the coach blew his whistle to dismiss class. Once Sophia and Emma had left, their cronies weren't far behind them. As I worked my way out from under the garbage I noticed Greg lingering by the door. He must've somehow managed to get away from his new group of "friends" I wasn't sure how much he'd seen but I wasn't in the mood for pity. A mere shake of my head had been all it took for him to leave.

I had retrieved my backpack and had been on my way out the door when I heard Coach Johnson call out my name," Herbert wait a sec."

"Its Hebert!" I said with a bit too much anger.

Instead of any negative response at the outburst, the coach had a smug smile on his face.  
"What's so funny?"

"I've been calling you by the wrong name all year, and you've finally got the nerve to correct me."

"You knew you were saying my name wrong and kept doing it anyway?"

"Bingo, kiddo."

"So is this why you wanted to talk about?"

"Sorta kiddo, you've got a problem and I can tell it's serious."

I rubbed one of my wrists where a bruise was beginning to form when I didn't offer a response he took it as an invitation to continue.

"You probably think I don't know what goes on in my own classroom do you?"

I offered a bitter laugh to his question,"Should I?"

I swung the backpack over my shoulder with the hopes of making it clear I was ready to leave.

""I'll be brief," he said while shifting his posture,"you're getting bullied by Sophia, Emma, and a few of the other students and you-"

I cut him off."So why don't you do something to help I know you see them but still you don't do anything."

"Listen kiddo the way I see things you won't be a 'kiddo' much longer in the real world nobody's gonna hold your hand when things get tough. It's best you learn how to deal with your problems in here than out their. It's not like I'd let anything to bad happen to you anyway."

Coach Johnson was probably around two-hundred pounds of pure muscle. Despite the fact that doing so probably would've left me with a broken hand, in that moment I felt the strong urge to punch him.

Several moments of silence had passed before I settled on a response on an appropriate response.

"Fuck you."

I could hear the coach's hearty chuckle behind me as I left the gym. I'd had enough of Winslow for the day.


	12. Bleed 2-6

Coach Johnson had been the last straw. Despite the morning having gone better than I could have hoped, 'better' in this case wasn't that far removed from the norm. The fact that this would be my second day skipping school barely registered in my mind, nor did the thought of the inevitable backlash of my continued absence.

Frankly I didn't care, didn't want to care, I was leaving Winslow and felt content at leaving any thoughts of it behind as well. I had been too tired to sprint out the doors as I had done only days prior. Instead, I had to slowly slink through the halls of the school carefully to avoid any teachers whose classes I missed, and who felt a sudden urge to do their jobs.

As far as mornings went, without the worry of possibly getting arrested, it would've been among the worst ones so far. It had been to the point that I decided to leave from the front doors rather than the much closer back exit. I hadn't even registered my choice at first, only realizing what I had done after I reached the front doors.

Despite my earlier feelings towards it, having to see yet another reminder of what the trio had done to me wouldn't bode well towards my current mood.  
I had expended more energy in the class than I should've. I was hungry for sure but that feeling was only the tip of the iceberg, there was more to it. As if I somehow were empty or incomplete in some way. I could feel the sense of 'wrong' creep from within and throughout my body. I struggled to keep it from affecting my walk, from complicating the simple act of maintaining balance or steady breathing.

But the fact of the matter was that I was exhausted and so was my power. For the first time since I'd gotten my abilities, the wraith was gone. Even if I had only a drop of it left it would still be enough for it to leave me to gather more. Without it I was stuck without access to my powers. Part of me was somewhat concerned that I'd lost them permanently, even though I logically knew that probably wasn't the case the thought still bothered me.

I had let most of my morning be consumed with fear of both potential and real threats. Having escaped them for now, the only good thing to come out of the mornings debacle had been Sophia's confirmation that the P.R.T didn't know who I was yet.

In neither of her personas had Sophia ever been compassionate, the only reason she hadn't already revealed me to the authorities was to hold it over me as blackmail.  
The memory of her pressing her foot down into my stomach was still fresh in my mind. The stain of dirt stood out in stark contrast to the white of my shirt. It was in the shape of a shoe making it easy for anyone who got close enough to guess what had happened.

I was glad to have had my jacket over the dirtied uniform as a man jogged beside his rather large dog. The weather had warmed somewhat since this morning; the city was never cold for long. Still however, the man had dressed a bit on the light side with only a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The shirt was thin enough to show off the muscle beneath the clothing.

As he got closer, I could see- shit he was looking straight at me, he whistled towards the dog and had to do so a second time before it slowed its pace to run behind him. The exposed parts of his body glistened with a slight sheen of sweat which had inadvertently caused his shirt to cling to his muscular frame.

He drew even closer, the bulges of his veins stood out against his arms as he breathed heavily. I knew what that meant, his blood raced through his veins as they struggled to deliver oxygen to his straining muscles. It was obvious that he had been running for a while now, it wouldn't be long before he was exhausted.  
My gaze rose up and away from his arms and towards the part of his body I'd get the most blood from. I knew enough about anatomy to know its neck was the best place to bite. If I did it correctly, the blood would spurt down my-.

I snapped out of my trance with the thoughts immediately losing their momentum though they still lingered like spots from a sudden flash.  
I brought my walk to a halt as the realization of what I had just been contemplating sunk in. Soon after the man had stopped his own run and now stood directly in front of me.

"Are you ok?" he asked. Despite his words his tone didn't convey concern so much as they did apprehension as if he were sizing up a potential problem to deal with.

I had to look up to meet his gaze; I could feel an embarrassed blush spread through my cheeks, apparently he could see it to as his face scrunched slightly with confusion. A few moments of awkward silence stretched between us as I struggled for something to say. It was likely that he'd gotten accustomed to stares and glances that stemmed from attraction the only reason for him to stop would be if he felt threatened in some way.

I'd already eyed him up and down, it was clear that he had at least a foot and several pounds of muscle over me. Looking this time at the shirt and not the muscles beneath I could make out the image of one of the wards, Clockblocker as he stood in a dynamic pose.

With nothing else coming to mind I latched onto the first option, "oh me I'm fine really sorry to stare, that's a nice shirt a really really nice shirt where'd you get it?"He started to respond but I just kept going."No, it's okay I'll look it up myself take care."

I spoke the last part as I maneuvered around the stranger and his dog with special care around the latter who wasn't secured with a leash. The dog seemed familiar somehow but not so much that I could easily place the memory.

I heard the man whistle before commanding the dog by name,"Bastard, lets go boy."

It was an odd name for a dog, but I didn't waver long on the thought as I adopted a brisk pace away from the uncomfortable encounter.

A part of me wondered if those notions immediately prior to the conversation were real, maybe I had just been attracted to the handsome man.'Man' sure he was a bit mature but I knew what a teenager looked like. It's only natural that I'd pay extra attention to an attractive person close to my age.

Regardless of how I decided to reason away what had happened I knew it was real. That had been the first time I'd fallen into any form of blood trance. I knew undoubtedly it was connected to my powers to some unknown degree. I had neither the knowledge, resources, or energy to research what was wrong with me which made this a problem that had to wait for the time being. If anything this was probably an over-reaction on my part, I haven't eaten much in the last couple days now that I thought about it.

Perhaps there was a kernel of truth in the shows I watched growing up where the characters would see delusions of food in the absence of it. Only in this scenario blood was the replacement of regular food. Whatever the case, I didn't have time to deal with this.

I'd spent the last several days reacting from one incident to the next. If I was ever going to be an actual hero, I needed to center myself and choose a place to start. With that goal in mind, I made my way down towards the Brockton Bay Central Library. Thanks to Sophia there was very little I could've done with the heroes, the same couldn't be said for the Undersiders.

Although the group, or more honestly Lisa, had claimed themselves to be heroes I wasn't convinced that was the full truth. It didn't make sense for so called heroes to have to escape from their allies in the P.R.T. There had to be more to all of this that I hadn't been told. A few hours of research was probably just what I needed to separate fact from fiction.

An hour or two had probably passed since I had left Winslow, I estimated that my walk had carried me a decent distance away from both my school and my house. Sure I could've gone back home to use the computer there, but I had no idea when my dad would come back. It would've been a bad scenario if he caught me skipping school, doubly so if he caught me skipping school to research capes.

Even if he were gone for the whole day, I still couldn't consider my computer a viable option. I didn't understand all the details of dad's job, but I knew that it entailed being a computer expert. With recent events in mind, I didn't doubt that he had some kind of malware or backdoor handy, so he could keep an eye on what I was doing. Besides Winslow my only other choice would be to use the computers available to me at the library.

Unfortunately, the library was still several blocks away. I had enough money in my backpack to either wait for a bus or hail a cab, though neither options were very wait for either could've easily taken longer than just walking, additionally I hadn't felt like being around other people at the moment ever since the blood trance or whatever it was.

I needed to get somewhere where I could eat food without too many people around. I wasn't worried that I could be a danger to someone else, not really, I had no reason to take pointless risk.

With that I was determined to keep walking, until I reached my destination, only now I was back to mulling over the trance. I needed to focus on something else, anything else before I triggered it somehow. Once again I reached for the first thing I could recall, the image of Clockblocker on the t-shirt from earlier. I tried and mostly succeeded in ignoring the boy beneath the shirt, and thus avoiding the memories related to the actual trance.

Recalling whatever details I retained about the hero's costume. It was a simple design: a white bodysuit beneath panels of armor with a few select panels sporting digital images of ticking clocks.A feature that even extended to his face plate and helmet. I didn't know much about the cape himself, but the costume had a clear 'time' theme running through it. I was pretty sure that he had some type of power to do with time. The use and extent of that power escaped me in the moment, but I could recall a time when Emma had made me laugh when she told me his name. 'Clockblocker' I wondered who in the P.R.T signed off on that idea.

Besides the non-serious name I could appreciate the various aspects of his costume. Not only did it conceal his identity, but it also made him stand out as an actual hero not some amateur with a costume pulled together from a donation basket. Although it wasn't like I could complain about that any longer. Thanks to several barrages of gunfire, a fire breathing man-dragon, and a mutant dog the only thing left of my costume was the memory.

The only thing I had left to connect me to my cape identity was my name. 'Windigo' as a name had been Sophia's idea the only reason I'd agreed to it was because 'man-eater' seemed pretty distant from Tampon Taylor. Even now knowing that it had been Sophia the whole time, in spite of her betrayal I was going to keep the name. It was mine to keep something the bully could never take from me.

As far as a costume went I knew what I wanted in broad strokes. Ideally the costume would be primarily black with a few pieces of white armor. Despite the durability of my transformed self, recent events like the night in the warehouse made even light armor seem like a good idea. Besides the colors and armor, the costume needed to be flexible enough to fit me in every stage of my transformation. That's where I ran into problems in the past, there weren't a lot of cheap and commercially available options for a durable, lightweight, and flexible material.

The best I could find was spider silk. It had a durability similar to Kevlar but the amount I would need to cover even half of my transformed self was easily thousands of dollars. Even now I doubt I had enough to afford it. Ignoring the price that still left me with a few problems such as how i was going to receive and then tailor the expensive material without anyone noticing.

It was a mystery how groups outside the P.R.T had gotten their own costumes. As I made my way up the library steps, I made a mental note to add that question to the growing list of research topics.


	13. 2-7

The Brockton Bay public library was an old building, large and kept mostly intact. The structure was a reminder of the city's former potential, before the villains and gangs came to ruin it. It had always seemed so big when I was just a little kid, back when my parent had made it a point to visit the building at least once a week. In the current moment, however, that same feeling likely had more to do with the lack of patrons in the old library.

It was still early enough in the day that the lunch rush of office workers trading one stuffy building for another hadn't crowded around the limited number of computers. The only other people besides myself were a few groups of college students either catching up on assignments or doing some last minute cramming. The reason they were here instead of the university probably had more to do with proximity than preference.

Whatever their reason for being there the amount of people with their noses buried in books helped me not feel so self conscious while I raided the small vending machine. I came away with an armful of two varieties of the same chips and a few bottles of water, not a whole lot in the way of a meal but enough to hold me over for the meantime.

As I walked towards one of the available computers I could feel eyes watching me, almost as if one of the college students were mocking me to their friends. I picked up the pace, and with some effort tried to convince myself that things were different outside of Winslow. I still chose the computer farthest back both out of habit and because I wanted to keep my back to the wall.

It was unlikely that someone else would discover my identity as easily as Lisa or 'Amara' had, but still, I wanted to take a few precautions just to be safe. In the near future that meant a mask for patrol, but in the present that meant using Dad's other library card to log in for the session.

I was probably being a little paranoid but I already had confirmation that at least one group was watching me. Besides that, the use of both accounts would allow me to spend several hours online until early noon. The bulk of that time would be spent learning what I could about these Undersiders and what it might mean to join them.

To that end I immediately click open a link for the Parahumans online forum or PHO. Emma had introduced me to the site years ago.

It was the best place to go for anything related to parahumans, it was the one place regular people could interact with verified capes , the large community of fact checkers used their varying levels of knowledge to create a cape wiki of most heroes and villains. Hopefully it would be my one stop shop for research on the Undersiders.

In the past I'd always had one obstacle or another that prevented me from using the website. When I was still a kid my Dad would somehow always catch me in the act. Some of that same instinct must've lingered while working with Sophia, as a blend of the fear at being caught and confidence in what we were doing.

The plan had always been to go after the underlings of any of the major gangs, instead of their capes who might've been able to take us in a fair fight. That was why we'd targeted the ABB instead of the Empire or even the Merchants. A possible fight against two capes seemed to be the better odds at the time, but they'd nearly killed us when the time arrived.

I wouldn't make that same mistake twice.

I wanted to research the Undersiders first, but some of my concern still lingered. I needed to know where I stood with the authorities, whether or not Sophia or 'Lisa' had been telling the truth. I needed an unbiased opinion.

I started my search by looking up Lung; neither I nor Sophia were well known by any means, a byproduct of only doing three hour patrols once or maybe twice a week.

The articles and links at the top of the search results painted Lung out as more of a warlord than a criminal; his rap sheet was long enough for a dozen life sentences. He had maimed, burned, and outright killed enough people that I shivered to think back to our fight at the warehouse.

The article detailing that night by The Brockton Bay Bulletin portrayed the arrest of Lung as a major victory for the Protectorate, with most of the credit going to Armsmaster of all people, with a few vague sentences implying PRT assistance with the arrest. The only mention of myself or Sophia had been the description of a skirmish between the ABB and a 'small gang of parahumans', which seemed to be the Undersiders.

I couldn't decide what upset me more; that Armsmaster had taken credit for beating Lung after swooping in at the last second, or how I was already lumped in with the Undersiders.

I took a break to eat some candy bars and process what I'd just read.

So far Sophia had been accurate when she described where I stood with the so called 'heroes'. Even while I was trying and succeeding in helping them they still branded me a villain. Worse yet was how quickly they accepted Sophia as one of their own. Did I really want to join a team like that? I didn't join the Wards for the same reasons I hated school — teenage cliques and drama were enough already without superpowers. The first-hand experience of how the heroes operated made my opinion of them reach new lows.

They'd already decided that I was one of the Undersiders — perhaps that might become the case.

I'd decided to look up the individual members first to get a better sense for the people I'd be working with. The most results I could get were a few blurry images and page stubs. The pages for Tattletale and Regent somehow had even less than that.

Grue was the first fruitful find; he didn't have a verified profile but his entry had more than a fuzzy image. A summary of powers, a record of notable events, followed with wider speculations on his character.

The only information pertaining to his powers was 'darkness manipulation', which though vague would be enough for now. Honestly his powers seemed a bit similar to Shadow Stalker's, which probably meant I could take him in a straight fight.

Grue had been a small time crook for a little over a year. At first he committed a few gas station robberies before stepping up to offering his services to other criminals and their schemes. That had only lasted a short time, during which he'd met Adlet. Apparently, it was during a job with a group called The Adepts where Adlet had gotten into some kind of altercation with the criminals. Whatever happened, it ended with Grue helping the girl escape the group. Ever since then the duo had mostly stolen from drug dealers and various smaller gangs.

Despite their attempts at keeping a low profile they eventually attracted the attention of the PRT, most likely due to Adlet's apparent age. They'd spent the previous year escaping capture, moving from place to place as the authorities seemed to grow more determined with each encounter. In the end Grue and Adlet arrived in Brockton Bay and joined the Undersiders shortly thereafter.

I tried the link to Adlet's entry, but that only brought me to the Undersiders page. Reading the main page would just be redundant so I scrolled down to the comments section for any other bits of information that might've been left out. I mostly found a few threads of wild speculation, but I did find one brief message that seemed different from the others.

'Hey, Red, lets chat if you're still interested, my treat.'

The message was from a user named 'Tt' and had been posted only an hour earlier. I knew it had to be Lisa; the coincidence was too uncanny for it to be anyone else.

Apparently I wasn't alone in my reasoning. A few other users had taken the post seriously, but were either ignored or mocked by everyone else.

Joining the Undersiders would be a major decision, and so soon after Sophia I was in no rush to be brash. Without the concern of a lurking authority waiting behind every corner, the notion of joining the Undersiders seemed like less of the obvious answer it had been.

A part of me thought that the location of the Undersiders HQ might be a reasonable means to put myself into the PRT's good graces. Even if I'd wanted to join I probably still wouldn't be invited to the Wards. But successful independent heroes weren't unheard of. I wasn't too optimistic though, I knew first hand how adept they were at evasion. Unless I wanted trouble I needed more information before I did something I'd regret.

I kept that in mind as I sent a message to Lisa with details for our rendezvous.

It was near the early afternoon when I arrived at Fugly Bob's, a mish mash of burger joint, bar and shack that I'd passed several times on my way out of the restaurant was a place that seemed to demand at least a visit for curiosity's sake. The food was to die for; though that had more to do with potential cardiac arrest than thrills. Most people knew better than to eat here often, but Bob's would be full of customers within the next half-hour. It was the best place to meet Lisa.

Our discussion would be in a public place packed with people in an area I knew like the back of my hand, just in case I wanted to escape. Admittedly the chances for anything so blatantly illegal happening here of all places were slim. I might've also been just a tad hungry.

I felt her hand on my shoulder on her way to sit down. "Good to see you again, I'm glad you've changed your mind."

"Uh, yeah me too. I just wanted to talk some more."

She wore a white blouse underneath a grey sweater, along with a black skirt and matching stockings. Her flowing dark-blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and though they were hidden by a pair of designer glasses, her emerald eyes were just as bright as the first time I saw them. I felt suddenly embarrassed.

The restaurant seemed to become a dump once she had entered. Like how an ugly stain looks even worse on a fine carpet. I tried to ignore how my appearance blended in, like mashed fruit in a trash heap.

We ordered our food before continuing, a burger platter and drinks for both of us. It came quick enough seeing as we were only some of the few customers ahead of the lunch rush.

"I guess you have more questions about the team, right? Well, I'm happy to help," she said.

I glanced around our table to make sure no one was close enough to overhear the conversation.

"Ok, what makes you think I want to be a thief?"

"Because you want the villains to hurt just as much as I do."

"Do you know that from stalking me?"

Lisa raised her hands defensively. "It wasn't so much that as it was an investigation."

"Did you give Shadow Stalker the same treatment?"

"There are some rules about important stuff like secret identities even I won't ignore. Besides, we already knew she was unstable."

"So what made me so special?"

"Honestly, it was by chance we already had an interest in your cape persona when I noticed you using your power at the Docks. It was smart of you to move within the crowd as you refueled but my power made it simple to find you."

So that was all it took to discover my secret identity? Based on what she said about it her power would probably fall into the thinker category, meaning she was a savant, though I couldn't guess how or in what areas that would've applied.

I tried to keep the renewed tension off my face as Lisa continued, "Plus you're trustworthy."

"Is that you or your power talking?" I blurted out before thinking.

Lisa didn't seem offended by the question, in fact it made her grin. "Both actually, plus it helps that no so-called 'hero' has tried to blast down our door yet."

"Yeah, I know that feeling a little too well."

"I and my team can help with that."

"No offense but how? You guys don't seem all that different from a small time gang, even with powers."

"None taken, and to be frank, you shouldn't assume anything about us. The PRT is more corrupt than it seems; if they were going to make a move against us we'd see it coming. They're afraid of us just like they are of you and they should be, because we're going to be the heroes they should've been all along."

It seemed like she had been telling the truth so far. Why would she lie? She had alluded to the details without providing any concrete information. She had even risked letting me recover in the Undersider base, whereas Sophia betrayed and blackmailed me at the first sign of trouble. I couldn't go back to being just Taylor, doing so after a taste of freedom would feel even worse than when I started.

"I want in, but are you sure the rest of your team would let me join." The image of Grue holding a gun to my face was still fresh in my memory.

"Again, I'm sorry for how they behaved earlier. Grue and Adlet are a bit over-protective of one another and Regent can be a bit trying, but they're not that bad once you get to know them."

"Then is it true that Grue was a criminal before he met Adlet?"

"I won't spill his secrets but trust me, it's more complicated than that."

"So how can I work with them?"

"Simple really, just be upfront with them. Adlet can take some getting used to but overall she's a nice kid. Grue has some rough edges but don't let that intimidate you."

"And what about Regent?"

"Oh right, just don't take him too seriously. I'm pretty sure he's doing this just for the fun of it."

We spent the next hour and a half finishing our meal while discussing details like salary. The money for handling Lung was to be considered a bonus separate from my monthly payment of a few thousand dollars. Lisa had apparently worked out a means of payroll for the team that ran through some offshore accounts. It was a relief to move that cash out of the house; Dad probably wouldn't be so indifferent about that much money.

The last topic covered was my costume. Joining the Undersiders was a huge step up from being a weekly vigilante. Thermal spandex and a raincoat weren't going to cut it anymore.

My experience with Lung had made it clear that I needed something with more protection in both forms. The theme of my costume had occupied weeks of daydreams. It had to be something threatening without too much menace, all the while representing the message I wanted to spread.

Lisa had brought a notepad that we shared as we collaborated ideas. Evidently the technology for changer costumes hadn't stopped at skintight spandex. Thus the end product had more of a modern inclination over the classic cape and cowl look.

We were getting up to leave when Lisa said, "Hey I almost forgot to give you this." She reached into her purse to remove a plain looking phone. "Everyone gets a burner phone pre-loaded with the team's contact info. If you ever need help just call us any time."

"Thanks," I said.

"Welcome to the Undersiders," Lisa said before she drew in close for a hug.

It was a friendly gesture and for now that was all it had to be, but it was nice to have someone again.

Lisa offered to drive me home, saying that she had some errands to run in that direction anyway. I opted to stay a bit longer and with that we went our separate ways.

After lunch with Lisa I'd made my way into the market to browse the stalls set up during the beginning of the week. In many ways the market was just a discounted version of the boardwalk with rented out stalls in the place of expensive store fronts,and most of the stalls remaining locked up until the weekend. I wasn't there to shop. I just wanted to enjoy what happiness I could before I had to go home.

I had spotted something familiar at an opened stall, a duplicate of the Assault T-shirt Emma had gifted me a few years ago. It had been something I'd wanted for the longest time, only now that notion felt suddenly ridiculous, for the fact that I had just signed up to potentially fight some of the heroes I had looked up to. I didn't think I could hurt them the same way I had done so many criminals.

Lisa had mentioned that our group's M.O was theft and the occasional use of guerrilla tactics when it came to fighting gangs. More would have to be done if we were to somehow manage to replace the heroes; conflict was sure to arise. When that time came I hoped to fight the people like Sophia and those like her who didn't live up to that title.

In any case the PRT would be ready for me. Sophia knew enough about my powers to warn them. Admittedly the idea of fighting multiple heroes left me a little nervous, even with the Undersiders backing me up.

Not helping matters, my powers still hadn't recovered. I'd assumed that my headache was the result of over exerting myself. Now that it was gone the hope was that I'd at least be able to absorb blood through skin, unfortunately several interactions with market vendors had proved me wrong. Maybe Lisa could help me, but the idea of my first call being about something weird like blood sacs made me hesitant to ask. I didn't want a repeat of what happened with Emma.

Nightfall was approaching by the time I made my way out of the market and into the Boardwalk. Joining Lisa's cause still felt good and I'd wanted to enjoy it, to avoid what I knew was coming.

The only thing left to do now was to go home and face the music. Winslow had probably called my house for skipping class, and if my dad managed to pick up the phone another argument would be waiting for me. If not that then he was probably hung-over again. Either way I'd be coming home to nothing good.

A very small part of me considered making a new home with the Undersiders. It was cleaner than my house on most days and maybe it would help me grow closer to the team. But how could I just abandon my dad — without me he would forget to even eat half the time. I didn't know what it would take to fix him but I couldn't leave, not like mom.

Home was just a half-hour's walk away if I took my occasional jogging route. I'd have more time to think up an answer for where I was for the last couple of hours. The route would take me through the Docks, where it was still too early for it to be dangerous.

The shift between the Boardwalk and the Docks had taken a single block; more of the sidewalk was cracked than was whole. Under the occasional working light stood crack whores or drug dealers. I kept to myself and walked faster when any of them spoke at me.

The one detail I found reassuring was a red and green ABB gang tag; it had been vandalized by several streaks of white spray paint. Despite the deception and betrayal that played a role in my partnership with Sophia, I still managed to do something right in weakening the ABB.

That satisfaction lasted only a few minutes when I heard the first scream echo through the neighborhood. The sound had come from behind me,sending a stiff shiver up my spine yanking.

Someone shouted, "The fucking bitch bit me!"

It had come from an alley across the street between two squat apartment complexes. At first I just stood there — without my powers I was just a scrawny teenager — but I couldn't just leave someone who needed help.

I pulled out my phone to dial the police when I heard another voice shout, "Let go,Bastard!"

Even from where I stood the voice was familiar to me as one of the Undersiders — it was Adlet.

I fumbled the phone in my fingers for a moment, not even slowing down to see who I texted for help. The message included my location and the text 'Help Adlet' in all caps. With that done I made my way towards the dark alley.

Getting closer I could see that the short alley was wide enough for a small car to drive through. Towards the middle of the alley was heaps of trash along the wall next to an overflowing aluminum trash can. Adlet and her dog were backed up against a tall chain-link fence, surrounded by four or five mostly shirtless men wearing Empire eighty-eight colors and tattoos.

I brushed past the group's lookout, a guy who looked eerily similar to Greg save for his shoulder length black hair.

"Andy!? Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you? Mom's worried sick."

That bit of improv was all it took to bring all eyes on me. I was pinning everything on my momentum to get Adlet out.

Even with the younger lookout pacing behind me some of the gangsters still moved out the way, though they did so with amused smiles. Adlet sat with her arms around a large black dog that I didn't recognize. The dog itself stood only on its front legs, with its back against the girl to shield her. The dog had been snarling when I'd entered the alley but when I tried to step closer to Adlet a deep, low growl resonated from its throat.

"Please leave me alone, I don't want to hurt you,"Adlet said in a muffled voice.

That statement had caused several of the men to chuckle.

"That kid's like a broken record."

It had been one of the older men who had spoken. He was somewhere in his late thirties, with tattoos on his forehead that marked where his hairline once was, complementary markings over his shoulders and barreled chest. He carried some muscle and just as much fat.

"Listen miss." He stepped close enough that I could smell his breath. "We don't want to scare any little girls, but I just want my dog back."

Behind me 'his' dog had intensified its growl enough that I worried it might pounce at any moment.

Apparently I didn't do enough to hide the fear off my face. The gangleader reached for his wallet, which was in the pocket next to the firearm holstered in his waistband, and rifling through the wallet he pulled out a few wrinkled bills.

"Think of this as your, uh, sister's reward for returning my dog, no harm no foul," he said while wagging the money in my face. Some of the E88 members were egging me on to just take the money.

I turned back to Adlet to see that she had managed to calm down her dog by bringing it closer to her. There was no way I could take just her. I had to stall until help arrived.

"We don't need your money, its her-"

A sudden blow to the mouth knocked me off my feet.

My vision swam as a stabbing pain blossomed at one corner of my mouth, shortly followed by spurts of warm blood.

The leader turned back to his gang with a grimace as he shook the hand that he had cut on my teeth.

"Rat faced bitch should've taken the money," he said.

From where I lay I could make out the gangsters surrounding Adlet and her dog.

"Bastard, protect," Adlet said as she pulled out a small pocket knife.

At the command Bastard leapt away from his master to stand at his full height, snarling with barks that sounded like gunshots.

"Jesus!" said one of the criminals as he raised his gun.

"Easy now," the gang leader said as he lowered the man's gun, "we don't want to hit the dog, it's gonna be a champ." He turned towards my direction.

"Hey newbie, do us all a favor and take out the trash."

My powers didn't react with my actual blood. The only fuel I could sense wasn't even a drop. I stayed down for the moment, concentrating to stop my power from healing me automatically. It would be enough to boost me for maybe one second. If I used it right I could save Adlet before things escalated further. It was my only choice as help had yet to arrive.

It took a few moments for the lookout to reach me, at which point he reached for my ankles to presumably drag me like a sack of rotten food. I waited until he'd grabbed a single foot to simultaneously bring that foot towards me, while lashing out my other foot into his waist.

The combination of shock and pain were enough to rob him of his balance and caused him to stumble a few steps back, giving me enough time to get to my feet and follow after him. I just had to bite him once to gather enough blood. The lookout recovered in time, taking up a fighting stance once he saw me approaching, but I rocketed towards him using speed and momentum to try and force him to the ground. He remained steadfast, sinking a blow to my stomach that halted me mid-stride. With a choking gasp I collapsed to the ground near the garbage.

"You should've kept walking," he said before stomping on me.

I turtled up the best I could until I could catch my breath.

As the Windigo I could take entire mobs of non-capes alone, and I'd let that become a weakness. I wasn't her at the moment, I had to think smarter.

Several more kicks and stomps smashed into my back and ribs before my chance came. The lookout thought he saw an opening near my head, and reared back for a loaded kick.

I waited until the kick was nearly mid-arc before I activated my power. In a few fluid motions I pushed myself back up to my feet, narrowly avoiding his attack while hooking his foot with my arm.

I'd run out of fuel by the time I was back on my feet but it didn't matter by then. I managed to trip him on my way up, an inversion of the previous situation.

"H-how did-"

I didn't give him time to process his surprise. In a single step I stomped directly on his ankle and was rewarded with the pencil-like snap of bone.

The lookout screamed but managed to work through the pain to reach for his gun. Before he could even aim he fired the gun three times. None of the bullets had hit me but I did hear a scream followed almost immediately by a roar.

I moved without thinking, as the gunman continued to fire off shots, I reached the garbage can and yanked off its lid. Wielding it by its sides I fell over the gunman and smashed the blunt edge of the lid into his nose until he stopped moving.

Rivulets of blood poured down his mangled face, and fortunately I was able to absorb the blood through my hand this time. The power craved more but it was enough to create a small wraith.

At first I thought one of the other gangsters had seen me use my powers as he'd screamed,

"What the hell is that!"

I turned around preparing myself to fight the rest of the gang.

For a moment I saw the outline of a black beast several times the size of any of the gang members. The only other visible detail were its gleaming fangs and the absolute hatred in its eyes.

Before it could devour anyone a familiar voice rang through the alley along with a wave of darkness.

"Adlet, stay calm."

The darkness wasn't like fog or smoke, not for long anyway. Once it swept out the darkness grew in heat, clinging to its victims.

The gang members writhed in agony as if they were actually on fire. Despite the heat, the darkness produced no smoke nor the smell of burning flesh. Even their screams sounded strange as if muffled it left me untouched.

Where the darkness didn't cling to it seemed to dissipate enough to allow some visibility.

Through it I could make out Grue holding Bastard's hunched over-head, and could only just hear him say, "It's okay, Rachel, I'm here. You can go back now."

Grue then dismissed his darkness once the gangsters had all passed out from the pain. By then Bastard had reverted to his normal size and Grue held an injured but conscious Rachel in his arms.

Grue was wearing the same outfit of a T-shirt and shorts from earlier in the day. His shirt now had a bit of blood from Rachel's shoulder wound.

"Your present came in handy today," Rachel said weakly.

"That's nice to hear, you did good here, ok, but we have to go to Doctor Q, alright?"

Rachel nodded in the affirmative before falling unconscious.

Grue had spoken with a level of warmth similar to a parent or an older sibling. It was a bit strange coming from him.

"Are you alright?" he asked with that same voice.

"Oh me? I'm, uh, fine, yeah." My wraith was still hovering where I had left only minutes prior. "Just give me a sec."

I sent the wraith out to feed on a gang member, but upon skin contact the wraith tried to suck the gangster completely dry. It took more effort than it should've for me to wrestle control back from it, and by the time I brought it back to my body I felt weakened. As if I were the one who'd nearly died.

Grue didn't say a word as he quickly moved himself under my arm as if to support me.

"What are you doing?"

"You need to get in the car, you've been shot twice." Despite his words more or less being a command he maintained the gentle tone he kept with Adlet.

As the four of us made our way out the alley and towards a black muscle car I padded my abdomen for any wounds. As sure as Grue had said I could feel two distinct points of pain as my hand came away wet with blood.

"Oh."


End file.
